


Hair

by Cielo Panda (Cielo_Panda)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, College, Dark Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, First Time Blow Jobs, Gang Rape, Hair-pulling, Long Hair, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Porn with Feelings, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roommates, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cielo_Panda/pseuds/Cielo%20Panda
Summary: Jaime had always been used to growing his hair long.He didn't really have a reason, until he moved into a new apartment and met his roommate.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38





	1. To not killing each other whilst living together

It was probably way too late in the semester. Jaime knew this, and he knew that he wasn’t bound to have much luck finding a decent apartment for himself off-campus at this point in time, but he still gave it his best attempt. While sitting at the table in the communal area of his dormitory building, he clicked through outdated listing after incorrect-to-the-point-of-false-advertising listing of student accommodations available as soon as possible. Sara sat next to him, but it was evident from her fidgeting that she would have preferred being somewhere else.

“Why don’t you just get a room in the dorms again?” Sara asked, clearly very bored. “It’d be a lot easier.”

“I’d rather go through the hassle of looking for a place than have to put up with a bunch of fratty frosh for another semester,” Jaime replied with a shrug. Three semesters of dealing with the drunken debauchery of the other dormitory residents had been more than enough, and he wanted to at least pretend that he was here to actually learn things, not socialize. Apparently that was weird though, as he had been told by previous roommates and even some classmates.

Sara rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, sure. You’re just bitter that you never managed to find a good fuck-friend here, unlike everybody else,” she muttered, splaying her arms out over the tabletop and returning her attention back to her phone. Jaime ignored this. He usually ignored Sara’s crass jokes about his lack of a sexual life.

A few more listings later, Jaime paused, turned his laptop around toward Sara, and asked, “What about this?”

Squinting up at the screen, Sara skimmed the details and reached up to click through some of the images that had been uploaded. “Seems fine. But it’s a two-bed. You’re gonna have to find a roommate too.” 

“Yeah, well... Still better than having random illegally-drunk kids burst into your room in the middle of the night,” Jaime said with a shrug as he swivelled the laptop back toward himself again. He clicked the email button and quickly copy-pasted the standard message, was the place still available, when could he come by to see it, when would it be available to move in. “Fingers crossed. I think I’ve hit the bottom of the barrel,” he said as he hit  _ Send _ and closed the laptop. 

“It’s because you started looking so damn late. Everybody who knew they’d be living off-campus already got the good ones months ago,” Sara said. She straightened up in her seat and stretched her arms. “You done then? To the bar now?” Bouncing to her feet eagerly, she snatched up her purse.

“I really don’t want—” Jaime began, but before he could object any more than that, Sara had already grabbed his upper arm.

“No excuses. I waited while you went through shitty apartment listings and now you’re done. Besides, it’s Friday. Fridays we go out,” she stated and dragged him to drop his laptop off in his shared dorm room down the hall, then out of the building and off campus to the bar that she so loved and he so hated.

The reply had come back while Jaime had been out with Sara at the bar, watching her get just smashed enough to lose all inhibitions, but still conscious enough to pick through the crowd and target guys she deemed worthy enough for a dance with her. He hadn’t heard the notification tone, nor felt his phone vibrate, since he’d been standing way too close to the speakers and all that he could even feel was the low thumping of the bass. 

Hours later, as he finished his routine of tracking Sara down after her fifth cocktail, peeling her away from the guy who was grinding up on her way too aggressively, narrowly avoiding being punched by said guy, and finally half-carrying her back to her own dorm room, he found himself wondering, as he always did at this point in the night, why he still stayed friends with Sara. No, that wasn’t fair to her. Despite her reckless behaviour after one too many whiskey sours, she was still a good friend to him, and always had been since they’d met in their freshman year. Still, there remained the question as to why the hell he still let her drag him out to the bar every Friday, only to end up being her clean-up crew. Maybe that was why. He was ‘safe’ — he definitely wasn’t going to take advantage of Sara while she was wasted. Or sober. Or any girl, for that matter. He sighed heavily as he tucked Sara into her bed and pulled the covers over her.

“Jaaaaaaaaimeeeee,” Sara slurred as she reached up a hand to pat Jaime’s cheek. “Thaaanks, Jai-jai. Yer so nice.” 

Sighing loudly again, Jaime gently plucked her hand away and tucked it under the covers again. “Go to sleep. There’s water on your night stand next to your phone and I put a bucket here next to your bed in case you need to vomit. Text me in the morning so I know you didn’t choke and die.”

“Kaaaay. Yer so nice, Jai-jai. And cute. Any gay guy should wanna fuck you. Nessst time we gonnnna find a nice gay boy to fuck you, don’t worry, mmmm-kay?” 

Jaime got to his feet and headed to the door, turning the lights off as he went. He heard Sara already snoring softly as he closed the door and headed out of the building, then crossed the field to his own dorm building. 

By the time he got back to his room, it was way later than he would have liked. It was never the time he would have liked when he went out with Sara. When he finally managed to look at his phone and saw the email, he felt like this time it was less okay though. He quickly responded to the email, hoping that it wasn’t too late and that they hadn’t already found another tenant. They said there was a viewing tomorrow — actually today, by this time — and yes, he absolutely could make it then and he’d see them at three in the afternoon. He sighed softly and tossed his phone on the bed before gathering up his things to head to the communal bathrooms down the hall. Only a few more weeks of this, and then hopefully he’d be out of this hell-hole, he told himself as he meandered his way past the raucous clusters of students still partying in the hallway.

When Jaime went to view the apartment the next — or more like, this — afternoon, he was expecting to arrive and instantly be told that it had been taken and that he’d have to keep searching. To his pleasant disbelief, the real estate agent smiled at him and said that yes, it was still available and as long as he put down a deposit, he’d probably get it. He didn’t even think twice before putting in the offer, shaking the agent’s hand and agreeing to send through the holding fee the moment he could. 

Walking out of the building minutes later, he looked up at the window that was soon to be his own. The agent had said that there had already been one other person who’d been interested in taking the second room so he wouldn’t have to worry about finding his own roommate, and that was fine with him. As long as he had his own space and didn’t have to share a bathroom with at least ten other people, a random roommate seemed like a fair trade. He let out a soft sigh of relief and turned to head back to campus to the dorms, grateful that he would only have to be there for just a few more weeks before he could leave them behind.

...

There wasn’t much to do on the following Thursday when he was finally going to move in, except to actually move whatever Jaime owned from his dorm room to the new apartment, just a little ways off campus. Despite feeling like he didn’t have that many belongings, all the boxes containing his possessions had occupied the entirety of Sara’s truck-bed. She hadn’t helped with moving the boxes themselves, but Jaime hadn’t expected her to. 

“You know, you could have lifted a finger and carried just one thing,” Jaime panted as he finally finished loading everything and got into the passenger seat, shaking off a thin layer of snow from his hair and jacket before getting into the truck.

“I could’ve. But it’s cold, I just got my nails done on Tuesday, you’re a big tough manly guy, and I didn’t want to emasculate you,” Sara hummed as she pulled out of the dorm parking lot.

“Thanks for calling me a ‘big tough manly guy’, I guess,” Jaime grumbled as he leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow propped up against the window. The snow-covered landscape lazily went by as they inched through the heavy traffic of overly-cautious drivers. “You sure you even have time to let me drop my stuff off, Your Highness?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m yours for the day. As thanks for getting me home from the bar last week.”

Jaime snorted at the memory. “You really should stop getting so drunk every Friday. Your liver is probably all shrivelled up by now.”

“With that attitude, My Highness is not going to take you out next Friday to find you a sexy gay man to fuck you.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to anyway.”

Sara didn’t respond, but rolled the truck to a smooth stop at a red light and eased it into neutral. Despite her appearances, she was a very capable driver, especially in her stick-shift pick-up. Jaime glanced over sidelong at her, only to notice her gazing at him intensely.

“What?” he asked tentatively. That look rarely boded well for him. “What’d I say now?”

As if chewing on the words she actually wanted to say, Sara’s mouth twitched but she didn’t speak for a while. The light turned green and she put the car back into gear, turning her attention back to driving.

Jaime demanded, “What’s wrong with you? If you’ve got something to say, you know you can just say it.”

At a right turn, Sara threw another odd glance at him. “You remember how you had that weird feeling that one time? When we went to the bar and you stopped me from having that roofied vodka-cranberry?”

“Uh, yeah? What about it?” 

“I kinda get that feeling right now, about your new place. I don’t know what it is, but...” She trailed off uneasily.

Raising his eyebrows at Sara, Jaime chuckled incredulously. “You get a weird feeling about my apartment? That doesn’t even make sense. I saw the place, and you saw the photos. It’s fine. There’s nothing weird about it. No crackheads or drug dealers or serial killers hiding in the closets or anything. I checked.”

“That’s not what I mean, Jaime.” Sara’s tone was unusually serious. Whenever it sounded like that, Jaime knew that this wasn’t the typically facetious Normal Sara. “It’s not just the apartment, it’s something about this whole thing, y’know? Like, maybe there aren’t any dead bodies in the closets, but you don’t know who your new roommate is, or what they’re gonna be like. Just... Be careful, okay, Jai-jai?”

Jaime gave a small frown. It was definitely unusual for Sara to be so cautious, and even more unusual for her to be so explicit about her concerns about anything. He would have to take her seriously this time around. “I will, don’t worry. It’ll be fine, okay? I’ll still be near enough to campus so you can come by to make sure I’m not dead. Besides, it’s not like anything that could happen at this place couldn’t happen in the dorms.”

“Yeah... I guess so.” Sara looked forward again and gave a small shrug, as if to reassure herself more than anything that she was just being paranoid. When one of her favourite songs started playing on the radio, she turned the volume up and began loudly singing along, a little off-pitch at times, mostly on purpose. Jaime turned his face to the snow-spattered window and smiled to himself. This was the Normal Sara that he knew.

They reached the apartment just over five minutes later. It took less time to unload the truck, because surprisingly Sara actually offered to carry at least a couple of boxes up as well, though Jaime figured this was only because there was actually an elevator in the building, unlike in the dorms. Whatever the reason, he was grateful, and he offered to buy her dinner as thanks. She waved her recently-manicured hand at him as she headed back to her truck.

“Told you, this is repayment for you helping me get back from the bar last time. We’re square now.”

Smirking slightly, Jaime leaned up against the door frame of the apartment building as he watched her, shivering a little. “Okay, fine, we’re square. Even though I’m pretty sure you still owe me from all the other times I had to carry your drunk ass home from the bar.” She leaned over toward the passenger side window to playfully flip him off, then zoomed off from the slushy parking lot. Probably to one of her usual haunts with her girlfriends, other than the bar. It wasn’t Friday today, after all.

With a low exhale, Jaime turned to walk back into the building. It was definitely a relief that there was an elevator instead of having to lug all things up the stairs, and even more of a relief that he didn’t have to go up the same flights of stairs after having moved everything into his new place. All he wanted to do was collapse onto his new bed, but he figured he should unpack some of his things before his new roommate arrived. They were supposed to have moved in the same day, but they hadn’t shown up yet. Besides, Jaime would at least have to put the bed sheets on the bed to go to sleep, and those were probably at the bottom of one of the larger boxes.

When he was almost halfway through unpacking his boxes, but with still no sign of the bed sheets, Jaime looked up and caught the eye of the black-haired man who had just walked in. He was probably the new roommate. “Hey. Are you Ryan?”

The newcomer merely grunted in reply, “Yeah.” He didn’t seem pleased for some reason. Maybe he’d been hoping for a female roommate.

Jaime tried not to let this get in the way of making a good first impression. He got up, dusted his hands off on his jeans, and stuck out the right one toward Ryan. “Jaime. Nice to meet you.” 

Ryan shifted the full weight of the box into his left arm to hastily shake the hand extended toward him, before moving it back underneath the box.

“Sorry if you were hoping to have a hot chick for a roomie, but guess you’re stuck with me.” Jaime gave a small chuckle in an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness. “I mean, I know my hair is long enough so maybe from the back I could look like a girl.” He flipped his hair over one shoulder in an exaggeratedly feminine manner to emphasize the point, but Ryan didn’t seem remotely amused.

“Which one is mine?” Ryan asked, shifting the box in his arms again to gesture at the two doorways leading to the bedrooms. Jaime pointed to the one nearest them, and Ryan strode toward the empty room without another word. So much for an attempt at making friends with his new roommate.

When Ryan came out of the room again shortly after, Jaime hesitated before stepping forward to say, “Want me to help you bring the rest of your stuff up? I’m almost done unpacking mine so—”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it,” Ryan mumbled as he threw Jaime a skeptical look before heading back out of the apartment.

Jaime shifted his weight on his feet and frowned slightly. What was that about? Turning back to his boxes, he knelt back down and continued removing things from them. He occasionally glanced at Ryan out of his peripheral vision whenever he noticed him coming in and out of the front door. At least the guy was quite attractive, to put it very lightly, even if he seemed a bit aloof.

Almost half an hour later, Jaime finally finished unpacking and had put away the empty boxes into the storage closet, and Ryan had brought up all of his own things. Jaime went over to the fridge, pulled out two bottles of beer (he’d gotten a six-pack with the full intention of sharing it with Sara, if she’d have stuck around for it) and strode over toward Ryan’s open door. He knocked on the doorframe and gestured to the bottles when Ryan looked up at him. “Care for a beer? I was going to split it with my friend who helped me move in, but she took off.”

Ryan looked at Jaime with that same skeptical gaze as before. Jaime felt an odd self-consciousness creeping through him as he extended one of his arms toward Ryan, offering the bottle to him. Maybe the guy didn’t drink or something.

“Yeah. Sure.” Ryan finally pushed himself up to his feet from where he’d been sitting on the floor and took the beer from Jaime’s hand.

Jaime lifted his own bottle to clink it against Ryan’s. “Here’s to not killing each other whilst living together,” he said with a hint of a wry smile. He took a sip. “So what are you studying?”

“Psych. Senior year. You?”

“Nice. That’s cool. I’m in second-year English,” Jaime replied with a small smile. “Everybody keeps telling me it’s a waste of an undergrad and that it’ll be useless for trying to find a real job, but,” he chuckled casually and took another sip of beer, “Could always freelance as a blogger or something, right?”

When Jaime looked up again, Ryan’s expression was stony.

Jaime’s smile faded a little and he shifted uneasily. He was still leaning against the doorframe and moved some of his weight off it. Did he say something wrong? He usually joked about his major anytime he met someone new and it hadn’t seemed to offend anybody yet, but maybe the way that he implied that the degree was pointless was a sore spot for Ryan? “Uh... Sorry. No offence or anything,” Jaime quickly said and dropped his gaze down to the bottle in his hand. He took another drink. Why the hell was he getting so tongue-tied?

From the top edge of his sight, Jaime saw Ryan taking a step closer to him. Looking up, Jaime saw that they were barely a foot apart now. Ryan was almost a head taller than him, so as Jaime lifted his gaze just a little more, he noticed that Ryan’s eyes were a vivid shade of green that he’d never seen before. They fixed Jaime with an unintelligible intensity that made him feel tiny.

“Uh... Sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Jaime asked hoarsely.

Ryan didn’t answer the question, but took another step closer to him, green eyes still locked on him. “You don’t have a sister, do you?” Ryan finally asked after a few more seconds of silence.

“What? No... No, I don’t have any sisters. Or brothers,” Jaime responded. His voice was almost cracking from nervousness, but he tried his best to calm himself. Those burning green eyes on him kept him flustered, though.

Eventually, Ryan seemed to accept the answer and took a step back at last. “Sorry. You just look a lot like someone I know,” he murmured lowly as he took a gulp of his own beer.

Jaime felt his body relax a little as the space between them increased, but his breath was still caught in his chest. “O-oh. No, sorry, probably not anybody related to me. I’m not from around here,” he muttered, taking a long swig himself. He gave himself a small shake to snap back to his senses. “S-so what brings you here? I mean to the apartment. I thought most seniors would have their own places already,” he asked, hoping to bring the conversation back to a more casual tone.

Ryan shrugged as he lowered the bottle from his mouth and peered about at the mess of boxes. “I did, but I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. We were living together but it was technically her place.” His face remained impassive, but his shoulders seemed to slump just a little.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry to hear that.”

They stood in silence, the only sounds between them coming from the occasional sip of beer. To break the tension, Jaime finally pushed away from the doorframe and asked, “Need a hand with unpacking?” 

“No. I got it.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything. And help yourself to some more beer if you want.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. :D This is my first story on this site. I used to write on FP.com but wanted to try this place out and this seemed like the right chance. I'm so shit at writing summaries, I'm sorry.
> 
> These characters have been floating around my head for years and years, with only a vague hint of a story for them. For some reason I got motivated enough recently to finally write something real for them. Chapters 1-6 are done and will be posted weekly-ish, if I can get around to it. The rest is mostly written, but because I have a bad habit of writing out of order and then procrastinating on piecing everything together, it may take a while longer for those. But I'm posting this now in the hopes that it'll motivate my lazy ass to finally finish this. :D
> 
> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy. Please leave any feedback because I read everything.


	2. Even a junkyard wouldn’t take it

By the next day, Jaime felt like he’d already been living in the apartment for months. He did worry a little that he’d come off badly in front of Ryan, but it seemed to be just overthinking, because Ryan came out of his bedroom in the morning and nodded at him in greeting on the way to use the toilet. 

When their eyes had met in that half-second, Jaime found that for some reason, there had been an odd tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers. 

Whatever it was, he tried not to think much of it as he gave his fingers a little shake before lifting up the coffee mug. He didn’t want to end up breaking something on the first full day after having moved in. It felt like that might be a bad omen or something, if he did. 

The second day, Jaime didn’t feel any tingling in his fingertips, but he seemed to have had temporary arrhythmia. His heart hadn’t acted so funny since the time he’d been in Sara’s truck and a very clearly drunk driver would have nearly smashed into them had Sara not been quick in her reactions and skillfully braked while swerving the truck just out of the way. Just as it had skipped a few times and then pulsed at double speed as if to make up for the lost beats, he felt his heart jerk around in his ribcage when he caught sight of Ryan walking to the bathroom, wearing only boxers. 

It wasn’t that Jaime hadn’t seen guys in their underwear before. Hell, he’d seen a lot more than that on many different occasions. But it was this particular guy in his underwear that seemed to throw Jaime off. Something about the way the sunlight filtering through the living room windows had bounced off that slightly-tanned skin stretched taut over just-the-right-amount-of-muscular abs, maybe. Or maybe it was the way that a small section of toned obliques had been visible under Ryan’s arm when he lifted it to flick on the lights. Except that it wasn’t just throwing Jaime off, but captivating him. 

There seemed to be a different physical reaction that afflicted Jaime each day whenever he saw Ryan. Usually this was whenever Ryan was on his way to or from the bathroom in the mornings, when he was only wearing his boxers, or in the afternoons or evenings before or after his classes, when he’d be fully dressed but with his hair gelled up to emphasize the bright green of his eyes. Jaime wasn’t even sure how it was possible that his body was suddenly acting in such ways that it felt alien to him. A pulsing skull, an aching diaphragm, throbbing in his thighs, a strain in the back of both forearms, and worst of all, the fact that his chest seemed to decide to alternate between taking an ice bath and stepping into a furnace. 

The symptoms of whatever disease Jaime figured he must have been infected with began to seep out of those brief windows of time when he actually saw his roommate. At times, he even found himself in class with a lumpy feeling in the back of his throat, or at the coffee shop with his stomach suddenly deciding that it was made of jelly. It was at one of those times at the coffee shop that Sara noticed. 

She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she demanded, “You look like you’re a million miles away. Did something happen?” 

“What? Oh... Uh, no. Just... Got a lot of things on my mind,” Jaime stammered. It wasn’t a complete lie. He’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of his new roommate, and those thoughts had proliferated and multiplied until that was all he could think about. Thoughts of brilliant green eyes, broad muscular shoulders, toned arms, neatly-styled black hair, boxers just covering— 

Sara was unconvinced. “Well, yeah, I figured that much. What is it?” She paused. “Is it your new roomie? Is he being a dick?” 

The last word made Jaime flush. He hadn’t been thinking about Ryan’s penis, but now he couldn’t help but imagine what it might look like. “W-w-what? No. It’s just... Well, he’s kind of messy and y’know... I like having my place a certain way and...” He trailed off. It was a sad attempt at covering up the truth, and he and Sara both knew it. 

“Oh shit, is he hot? He’s hot, isn’t he? You’ve got a crush on him, don’t you?” Sara exclaimed immediately. She never missed a thing, and especially never missed a chance to poke fun at Jaime’s seriously lackluster love life. 

“I don’t get a crush on every hot guy that crosses my path, Sara,” Jaime said indignantly. 

“Yeah, but—” 

“Besides, he’s straight. At least, I’m pretty sure he is.” 

With a derisive snort, Sara rolled her eyes at him. “Jaime. Sweetie. You and I both know your gaydar is so fucking broken, even a junkyard wouldn’t take it for free. How the hell do you know he’s _not_ gay?” 

Feeling extremely ruffled, Jaime made a face. “It’s not _that_ broken,” he muttered. “But if you must know, he told me he had a girlfriend.” 

“What? Really? Then why’d he move in with you?” 

“He hasn’t ‘moved in with me’, we just happened to move into the same apartment at the same time.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Sara pursed her lips. “Mm-hmm. Because?” 

“Because he said they broke up.” 

“I figured that much when you said he _had_ a girlfriend, thanks. Why’d they break up?” 

“Hell if I know. I didn’t ask because I’m not nosy like you.” Jaime paused, his mind drifting back to the way that Ryan’s green eyes had shone so intently at him on the first day they’d met, when he’d mentioned the break-up. That conversation had been the longest one they’d had so far. “He doesn’t really talk much anyway.” But that was also part of the allure to Jaime. 

Still staring at Jaime with a suspicious gaze, Sara took a noisy slurp of her over-sugared, mocha-flavoured, weather-inappropriate iced coffee through the straw. “If he _is_ straight, then be careful. You’ll just get hurt if you get attached to a straight guy. And a dick from the sounds of it, no less.” 

Jaime didn’t answer. His thoughts were drifting toward a very particular dick now. 

... 

There was now a pattern and rhythm to the way that Jaime and Ryan managed not to interfere much with each other while they were both at the apartment at the same time. Jaime would get up early enough to be able to use the shower and eat breakfast by the time the muffled sound of Ryan’s alarm went off behind the closed door to his bedroom. Ryan seemed to have most of his classes in the evenings, so would be gone by the time Jaime came back from his own classes. Jaime would have dinner and then sit out in the living room to work on assignments or read. Just as he would be ready to get to bed, Ryan would come back. 

Of course, Fridays were the exception. As was already tradition, Jaime would go to the bar reluctantly with Sara to be her safety net. On the second Friday after they’d moved in, just before heading out to meet Sara on campus, Jaime had casually asked Ryan what he would be up to. Ryan, it turned out, had his own Friday tradition of hitting the clubs with some of his friends. Jaime had had the sudden epiphany that this was finally the Friday that he would stand up to Sara and tell her that he wasn’t going to the bar with her, because he was going to the club with Ryan instead. But despite his surge of motivation, the plan had been thwarted when Sara had called him just at that moment to demand why he wasn’t there yet, and that he needed to hurry his ass up so she could get smashed sooner. 

So they continued their oddly harmonious weekly routine and traditions, until one Friday when Sara ended up getting food poisoning from a sketchy burrito place she’d gone to for lunch. She’d told this to Jaime with the utmost confidentiality, she’d said, because nobody else was allowed to know that her bodily functions were anything but rainbows and sunshine, but Jaime would probably be happier if he spent time with his roommate than cleaning up after her anyway, so she’d given him her blessing to hang out with Ryan instead. 

“I kinda doubt he’d invite me to hang out. Especially not to go clubbing with his friends,” Jaime murmured into the phone as he sat on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest and back leaned against the wall. His eyes flitted toward the closed door, as if he might suddenly develop the ability to see through solid objects and catch sight of Ryan in his own bedroom, getting ready to go out for the night. 

“Uh huh. That’s why you’re supposed to ask. With words, out of your mouth. You know, like—” 

The call seemed to drop off, but then Jaime heard the distant sounds of feet running, followed by the bang of a door being thrown open. He winced and waited for a minute before he decided that it was unlikely she’d be back for a while if she was vomiting, so he hung up and dropped the phone next to him on the bed. He leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling and absently twirling a lock of hair in his fingers. Even though Sara’s relentless campaign for him to acknowledge that he ‘desperately desired’ his roommate was annoying and at times unbearable, her suggestion of him asking Ryan to hang out was starting to sound like a legitimately good idea for once. 

Jaime decided that he was going to wait for Sara to call him back, and because of this, he wasn’t going to talk to Ryan after all. But his phone remained silent, and he figured that, by the time he stepped out of his bedroom almost half an hour later, Ryan would have gone out anyway. So it took him by surprise when he then walked into the living room and saw that his roommate was sitting on the sofa and watching TV. 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you’re still here,” Jaime said, slightly startled. “Not going out tonight?” 

Ryan drew his eyes away from the TV briefly to shrug at Jaime. “Nah. My buddies got food poisoning or something from some shitty burrito place they went to.” He took a sip from the bottle of beer in his hand as he returned his attention back to whatever he had been watching. 

“Oh.” It seemed a huge coincidence — though one that Jaime appreciated — that they’d ended up staying in on a Friday evening because of the same questionable Mexican restaurant. 

Feeling oddly flustered, Jaime stood staring at his roommate for a moment, before catching himself and hastily turning his eyes up to the screen instead. He recognized the show. “Oh, is that from the new season?” He took a second to steel himself, and then asked, “Mind if I watch with you?” 

Without looking at Jaime, Ryan gave another indifferent shrug while reaching for the remote. “Sure. Want me to restart it?” 

“Uh, no, it’s okay.” It wasn’t actually the show that Jaime was interested in, anyway. After getting a beer for himself from the fridge, Jaime sat down on the sofa as well, though he made sure to lean all the way to the opposite side to make sure there was as much distance between the two of them as possible. 

When the episode ended, Jaime couldn’t remember any of it. His brain was too focused on trying to keep his body calm, but he was sure it had been obvious how tense he was, or how he kept tossing sidelong glances at Ryan. Meanwhile, Ryan had gotten up without a word and walked over to the kitchen. Jaime’s eyes followed him, but quickly snapped back to the TV when Ryan turned around again, two new bottles of beer in his hands. Ryan handed one to Jaime as he sat back down on the sofa, and the next episode started playing. 

Halfway through the next episode and two-thirds through his beer, Ryan broke the silence. “Can I ask you a weird question?” 

Jaime had an out-of-body experience that lasted a split second. Turning to Ryan, he licked his dry lips and stuttered, “Y-ye—yeah?” 

“Why do you grow your hair so long?” 

It was a weird question, but not the first time Jaime had been asked it. He was just used to growing his hair long. He hadn't really had a reason for it. His shoulders relaxed enough to shrug. “Dunno. I guess I never really thought about it.” Picking up a strand of hair, Jaime inspected the dark red between his fingers. “Why? Do you think I should cut it?” 

“Not really.” 

Jaime never forgot the next words that Ryan said. 

“I like long hair.” 

When Jaime’s head snapped up to stare at Ryan, he suddenly felt like time and space had frozen as his hazel eyes met green. 

Ryan was staring directly at him. 

But a second later, Ryan’s eyes broke contact and shifted back to the TV. He gave his head a small shake, as if to wake himself from a trance. 

They returned to watching the show in renewed silence. At least, Ryan seemed to be focusing on it. Jaime’s attention was far from what was happening on the screen. His lungs decided that they would inhale twice before each exhale, rather than alternating. In an attempt to distract himself, he picked at the label on the bottle he was holding. It was shredded to pieces almost instantly. He hastily chugged down the remaining beer, which seemed to help get his irregular breathing back to a more normal rhythm. 

A few more minutes later, Jaime finally felt calm enough to speak first this time. “S-s-so, um... Do you always go to the club on weekends?” 

Stupid. He mentally kicked himself for such a stupid question. He should have thought more about what to say instead of just saying the first thing that came to mind. 

“Yeah, sort of,” Ryan replied. If he thought the question was stupid, he didn’t give it away in either his expression or his tone. “My buddies started dragging me out every week after my ex dumped me a few months ago.” 

“O-oh. I see.” Taking a shallow breath, Jaime hazarded a glimpse at the side of Ryan’s face. “That’s...nice of them?” 

So very stupid. 

“Yeah. They figured I’d get over her faster if I ‘got some new pussy.’” The ease with which he spoke made it evident that Ryan was much less fazed by the topic. 

“Oh. So... Did it work?” Jaime asked thickly. His tongue suddenly felt like it was twice as heavy as usual. 

With a nonchalant shrug, Ryan replied, “A bit, yeah. I mean, it keeps me busy most weekends.” 

Jaime decided that what he really needed right now was some more liquid courage, so he jumped to his feet and practically ran to the fridge to grab two more bottles. There were only a few left in the fridge now, but hopefully there was enough to get him through the rest of the night—or at least, the rest of this conversation that he regretted ever starting. He took a big gulp while passing the other bottle to Ryan. 

Like magic, the alcohol kicked in shortly, and Jaime was only mildly ashamed when he asked, “How long were you and your girlfriend together for?” 

“My ex?” Ryan corrected him, almost too quickly. Maybe he wasn’t quite over her yet. “Couple years or something. We started going out at the start of my second year.” 

“Oh. Wow. That was a pretty long time.” Jaime had been about to say something he thought would be comforting, like, ‘ _That really sucks_ ,’ or, ‘ _Sorry it didn’t work out,_ ’ but it didn’t seem like the right thing to say just then. Instead, he said the wrong thing. “Can I ask why the two of you broke up?” 

Ryan shot a steely frown at him. 

Instantly, Jaime backtracked and blurted, “Sorry! I— Sorry. You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.” Face turning pink, he ashamedly dropped his gaze to the bottle in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to disappear inside of it. Since he couldn’t do that, he just took several long gulps from it instead. 

“No, it’s cool,” Ryan mumbled lowly after a moment. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. She just said she needed time to be on her own. Said she wanted to ‘find herself’ or some shit and went to backpack across Europe for a few months. Some fucking eat-pray-love bullshit.” 

“Oh. That really sucks.” Jaime finally said the words he should have said in the first place. “Sorry it didn’t work out...between you two.” Better to lay it on thick, now that he’d made an absolute ass of himself and probably made Ryan despise him and he’d probably never talk to him again. But to his surprise, Ryan didn’t seem to care. 

“What about you?” 

“Huh?” 

“You going out with that blonde chick?” Ryan was watching the TV screen again and taking a slow sip of beer. 

Jaime blinked. Blonde chick? Why would he go out with a blonde chick? But then his just-a-little-too-buzzed brain put the pieces together and realized that the ‘blonde chick’ was probably Sara. She had come to the apartment the previous week to give him a belated housewarming present, although he was pretty sure she’d only bought the micro-sized cactus plant as a front for coming to catch a glimpse of Ryan. 

“You mean Sara? Oh, god no. I’m not into g— I mean, she’s my best friend. I don’t like her like that.” Jaime could have punched himself — once for sounding like a prepubescent teenager, and once for almost coming out to Ryan — but resisted, so that he wouldn’t seem even crazier than he probably already did. 

“Oh. Right.” 

Unable to actually hurt himself without looking like he’d lost his mind, Jaime settled for pressing the cool bottle against his burning cheek and tried to act like it was a completely normal thing to do. He glared furiously at the empty bottles on the coffee table in front of them, as if this whole awkward situation was their fault and not his. 

“Got a boyfriend, then?” 

Jaime’s neck almost snapped from the speed at which he whipped his head around to gawk at Ryan. A guarded part of him thought to deny it, but the rational part of him realized there was no point in lying at this point. “Um... N-no. I don’t.” For the next half-minute, his breath came in soft, apprehensive bursts. “Does...does it bother you? That I’m...you know...” 

Now came the part where he’d be told he was disgusting and told to get lost. The part where Ryan walked away and never even looked at him again. It had happened every time he had told someone while growing up that he wasn’t ‘normal’, that he wasn’t straight, even with the people he had thought would be understanding and trustworthy. Without fail, they had always called him a disgusting freak and scorned him, pretending he didn’t exist. 

But once again, Jaime was taken by surprise, because Ryan didn’t move from the sofa. 

“No. It’s fine. Doesn’t matter to me.” 

This kind of chill attitude was still new to Jaime, and he wasn’t sure how to react. He tried to come up with something to say in gratitude for Ryan’s understanding, but he only seemed able to think of another question. 

“How did you know? Is it that obvious?” 

After knocking back the rest of his beer, Ryan shrugged. “Just a guess. Can usually get a good sense of people.” 

“That makes one of us,” Jaime muttered. He glowered down accusingly at the empty bottles on the table again. “Sara says my gaydar is too broken even for a junkyard.” 

An unfamiliar noise made him look up. He realized that it was the sound of Ryan’s chuckle. 

Ryan was actually _chuckling_. 

Jaime was bewildered, but at the same time he felt a rapid fluttering in his chest. Ryan’s voice sounded so soft, so velvety, so smooth. Oh god, Sara was so right. She was always right. But he couldn’t admit it. He had to calm himself. He had to act natural. The bottle on his cheek had become warm from the heat of his own skin now, so he lowered it and feverishly picked at the sticker label. 

“And she’s your friend, eh?” Ryan said, a hint of the chuckle still in his voice. 

“Yeah, ever since frosh week.” Despite the tumult of emotions swirling through him, Jaime found himself giggling as well. “She can be crass, and kind of crazy and nosy, but she’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Or as she calls herself, my BBFF.” He noticed the slightly puzzled look on Ryan’s face and clarified, “Uh, kind of like BFF, but ‘Best Booby Friend Forever.’” 

This time, Ryan burst out laughing. Jaime couldn’t help but laugh with him. 


	3. Pretend it never happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags for this chapter.

The TV show had continued playing the remainder of the night, and while neither of them paid much attention to it, Jaime remembered everything that they’d talked about. 

It felt like they had actually talked about everything. How he and Sara had met during their first week of university, when Sara had lost track of her friends and had ended up taking Jaime to the bar for the first time. How Ryan had met his ex-girlfriend through a mutual friend at a party in his second year while they’d all been living in the dorms. How Jaime had shrewdly selected a university far from his remote hometown and didn’t plan to ever go back to that extremist-conservative hellhole. How Ryan had originally planned on majoring in actuarial science before realizing how insanely boring it was and instead his ex-girlfriend had suggested he switch to psychology. How Ryan’s ex-girlfriend had accused him of being an emotionless robot so many times, that he was convinced she’d only recommended psychology in hopes that learning how human minds worked would help him become more human somehow. How Jaime thought Ryan actually seemed to have an intrinsic ability to decipher people pretty well, despite what Ryan’s ex-girlfriend had said. 

Jaime had even been on the brink of divulging how he’d been experiencing all those strange physiological sensations ever since the first day they’d moved into the apartment, but by some miracle, he’d managed to stop himself just in time by proclaiming that he was tired and was going to go sleep. 

Through the throbbing of his not-quite-hungover-but-quite-rough brain, Jaime decided the next morning that the ridiculousness had to stop, and it had to stop right then and there. He’d been way too close to revealing things he shouldn’t ever reveal, and he couldn’t risk that ever happening again. He’d have to stop getting that drunk, for a start. For another, he’d have to stop getting drunk in front of Ryan, period. Lastly, he’d have to act more like a roommate and start keeping his distance. 

It was a solid plan in his mind. He had midterms coming up and assignments to finish anyway, and after all, his studies had to come first as long as he was paying through the nose for his education. He told Sara as much the next time she tried to convince him to go to the bar, but even she didn’t argue because she also had an exam the following week and had yet to achieve a satisfactory grade on any of the assignments for that class, so she really needed to ace the midterm. The next couple of weeks were therefore spent without their going out, to the point that Sara began whining that every day was like a Monday. Whenever she did, Jaime amused himself by thinking of his tiny cactus, which he’d decided to name Monday since it was doomed to never go out of his apartment. 

It was one such Monday-like Friday, when Sara had for once been the first to reject the notion of going to the bar and Jaime had consequently asked her whether she was feeling sick, that he found himself cozily in his pyjamas in his living room. Ryan had gone out to the club as usual, which worked perfectly with Jaime’s plan since it meant he wouldn’t have the constant distraction of Ryan’s presence on his mind. The amount of school work that he’d buried himself under for the past few weeks had taken up much of the space in his brain, pushing most of the thoughts of Ryan to the background. In fact, even the weird reactions Jaime had been experiencing seemed to die down for the most part, and he only had the occasional clench of his esophagus or twist of his stomach when his thoughts temporarily drifted to his roommate. 

Several hours after settling in for the marathon study session, Jaime was deeply immersed in a pile of notes and books scattered around him when the sharp snap of the front door jolted him abruptly out of his concentration. He looked up to see Ryan stumbling his way toward the sofa after shedding his jacket. With his back against the seat of it, Jaime felt the full force of Ryan’s body slumping into the cushions. “Looks like someone had a good night,” Jaime murmured, urging his attention back to the papers in his hands. 

Ryan simply grunted. 

“How come you’re back so early? You’re usually out later than this,” Jaime asked coolly. He shuffled some of the papers in his hand to the floor before picking up another stack from the coffee table in front of him. 

Another grunt. 

“Didn’t get to hook up with anybody, I take it?” The question was innocuous, yet at the same time it left Jaime’s mouth with subtext that Ryan wasn’t likely to pick up in his current state. 

Ryan grunted yet again. “Wasn’t feeling it tonight,” he slurred. His voice was barely audible from the muffling effect of the cushions against his face. 

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d give up so early anyway.” 

“What the fuck would you know.” 

Jaime didn’t even bother shrugging as he continued in his attempts of studying. The writing on his notes slowly blurred as he felt Ryan’s ragged breath on the back of his neck, which caused his eyes to slip out of focus. 

“You should go sleep in your room. And please don’t puke on my back,” Jaime warned Ryan in a poor attempt to justify his own distraction from his studies. A drunken groan was the only response. It took all of his efforts not to turn around, and instead he leaned forward to stack the sheets he was holding into a neat pile next to his textbooks. Maybe he’d call it quits for tonight and just study some more tomorrow. 

He felt Ryan’s breath, closer than before, just at the top of his nape. The warmth spread over his body like a soft breeze. Gentle fingers tugged and curled around a thick lock of red hair that had fallen from behind Jaime’s ear. 

Jaime took a trembling breath to steady his nerve before he turned his head ever so slightly to the side. The brief hesitation wasn’t enough to prepare him for the sight that met him. Ryan’s eyes, burning bright green as ever, were staring directly at his own, mere inches away. Jaime started to move away, but a firm hand on the other side of his neck held him in place. Warm lips brushed against the underside of his jaw through a layer of red hair, and Jaime gave an unintentional shudder. 

“Ryan? What are you doing?” 

There was no response, but instead a flick of a tongue on Jaime’s skin. The soft touch became more fervent, with the rest of Ryan’s tongue sliding along Jaime’s jawline. Jaime shivered involuntarily again from the sensation, and then tried to pull back even harder. “Come on, what the hell, dude...” 

Ryan still didn’t reply. His other hand moved down to Jaime’s waist. A brief tussle later, Jaime found himself pressed face down against the sofa, the papers that had been in his hands now strewn across the table and floor. 

“Wha—what the hell, Ryan,” Jaime muttered while pushing back. It wasn’t the best attempt he could make, but it should have been enough to signal that he was being serious. It had no effect, though. One of Ryan’s hands made its way up the back of Jaime’s shirt while the other became entangled in his hair. He didn’t really blame Ryan for all of this — he was very drunk after all — but this was pushing the limits, even with the excuse of alcohol. Using a little more force in his arm, Jaime knocked Ryan away again. “Cut that shit out.” 

The elbow to his chest had briefly stopped Ryan’s movements, but he recovered surprisingly quickly for how drunk he appeared. “Don’t fuck with me. You fucking want me, don’t you? I’ve seen you eyeing me,” he growled and used one hand to hold Jaime’s wrists down together while the other hand yanked his shirt up. 

“I—no! That’s not— I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re so fucking drunk,” Jaime argued. He was lying, of course. He _had_ been eyeing Ryan, but he’d thought that he’d been discreet about it. Sara did always say that he was bad at being secretive, though. “Just—quit it, seriously. I get that you’re horny because you couldn’t get laid tonight, but don’t go using _me_ to get yourself off.” 

While Jaime had been struggling, Ryan had managed to pull Jaime’s shirt over his head and partially down his arms, twisting and knotting them tightly to bind Jaime’s wrists together. Jaime’s pyjama bottoms and underwear were yanked down in a single swoop, exposing his bare skin. He struggled harder now, but he knew he had no chance against Ryan when it came to physical strength, a fact they were both aware of. 

With his face against the sofa and arms pinned behind his back now, Jaime could only see the rest of the living room with one eye that wasn’t pressed shut against the cushions. In the blurred reflection of the glossy black TV screen, he saw Ryan fumbling with the top of his jeans, and then the sound of a fly zipper being yanked down followed. 

“Ryan, please...” Jaime’s voice came out shaking, soft, practically begging. He wasn’t sure what he was begging for anymore, though. 

Hot flesh that definitely didn’t feel like Ryan’s hand pressed against the cusp between Jaime’s buttocks. It was thick, firm, practically throbbing. Jaime’s mind was in a dizzying haze. He’d fantasized about this, jerked off while imagining Ryan a few times, but this... It wasn’t how he wanted it to happen. 

He heard Ryan spit, and the TV showed the vague image of him sliding his presumably moistened hand a couple times over his erection. Jaime buried his face fully into the cushion, now hiding from view the picture of his own prone body with Ryan on top of him. He didn’t want to see it like that — like some terrible low-quality amateur porn video through a dirty old window. 

Jaime felt his ass-cheeks being spread apart, and then Ryan thrusted in abruptly. Though Jaime had braced himself by taking several shallow breaths and balling his fists tightly, the sudden penetration still came as a dim shock. He yelped into the cushion and tried to take his mind off the pain shooting down his legs and up his spine. 

“F-fuck... Ryan, it hurts... Don’t—” he whimpered softly, but he knew it was useless. At this point, it wasn’t like Ryan was going to stop even if Jaime told him this was his first time. All Jaime wanted was for it to at least not hurt so much. 

Just as expected, Ryan didn’t react to his words. He merely gave a low groan, as though it was a great effort to plunge the rest of himself into Jaime. By all means, it didn’t seem like it could go any farther inside him. 

Jaime felt a shameful phrase on his lips and tried to suppress it, but in his agony, the words slipped out anyway. “You’re too— It’s not going to go in,” he breathed. The moment he said this, it seemed to have the opposite effect and it only spurred Ryan to thrust harder and drive farther inside. 

It was almost in all the way after a moment, or so it seemed to Jaime. There was a brief pause. He let out a low moan of temporary relief from the pressure he felt building up between his legs as Ryan pulled back slightly. His respite was only short-lived as Ryan pushed forward again, then backward, then forward, his rhythm gradually building up speed as he pulled out a little more each time as well. 

Ryan moved one hand to Jaime’s hair and seemed to caress it gently, but then gave a sharp yank on a handful. Jaime’s face raised off the cushion and he gasped into the open air. Maybe it was just the discomfort and pain increasing, but he could have sworn that Ryan got harder just then. 

As the motions continued, Jaime’s body finally began to relax, thrust by thrust. The pain was gradually fading into a dull throb, and he even began to feel a more pleasurable sensation — especially when Ryan seemed to hit a specific spot each time he pushed in a particular way. It wasn’t long before Jaime actually let out a drawn-out groan. He swore under his breath and bit down on his lip. The groan rising up in his throat again was threatening to turn into a moan. 

Jaime’s head hit the cushion again as Ryan’s grip on his hair loosened, though the fingers remained entangled with several strands. As Jaime turned his face to silence himself, he felt a shift above him. Ryan’s ragged breath was at Jaime’s ear as he seemed to practically nuzzle his neck. The movements were much gentler now than they had been until this point. The change in touch made Jaime relax even more, and this time he couldn’t hold back a low moan. “Oh fuck, Ryan...” He turned his head ever so slightly to the side, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a clear expression of pleasure on Ryan’s face. 

The sight of those gently parted lips, the green eyes barely visible through the half-closed eyelids, the faintly furrowed eyebrows, the expression that he had so desired whenever he pictured Ryan in his fantasies, pushed Jaime over the edge. His body tensed up with a bursting sensation, and he let out a gentle cry. 

It wasn’t much longer before Ryan’s movements became more erratic. His fingers entwined around more locks of Jaime’s dark red hair and gripped them tightly. Shortly after, Jaime felt a sudden warmth explode inside of him as Ryan gave one final, deep thrust. He let out his breath through his teeth and shifted his lower body at the odd sensation spreading through it. 

They remained still for a while, both taking in breaths with deep gasps, bodies still pressed tightly together. Eventually Ryan straightened up and pulled away. Jaime felt the hold on his hair release at last, and the tresses fell over his flushed cheeks. The waves of pleasure gradually faded, and a slight discomfort took over as he felt some of the warmth trickle out of him. He tried to turn around, but his arms were still bound to his back and he could only twist his upper body to the side. He took a few more breaths with his eyes closed before daring to open them to look up at Ryan, who was still leaning over him with hands placed on either side of Jaime’s shoulders on the sofa. Ryan’s eyes lingered on Jaime’s face with an unreadable intensity, but in a breath his gaze neutralized. 

“M...my arms are numb,” Jaime mumbled at last. He wanted to ask for help getting out of his shirt, but the words suddenly dissipated from his foggy mind. The point seemed to get across regardless, as Ryan reached forward to untangle Jaime’s limbs. Jaime brought his arms to his front and gingerly massaged his tingling muscles to ease the pins and needles. 

It felt like Jaime’s sluggish brain was perceiving everything in slow-motion now, even as Ryan collapsed between him and the back of the sofa, one arm flopping over Jaime’s bare waist. As Jaime tried to think of what to do, or even say next, he felt the hot breath on the back of his neck gradually slow down. It took him a moment to realize that Ryan had fallen asleep, but he didn’t give this much thought as he dozed off shortly after as well. 

... 

A shard of sunlight across Jaime’s face woke him. He was momentarily confused before realizing that he was on the sofa, not in his own bed. As his mostly-asleep thoughts began gradually working at regular speed again, everything that happened the previous night came rushing back to him, like a video in rewind. He pushed himself up onto one elbow and looked around with panicked eyes. 

He was alone. Ryan wasn’t on the sofa next to him, or anywhere in the living room. Jaime’s body relaxed as he let out a sharp breath. Maybe it had all been a dream — a really fucked-up dream. Almost a nightmare, except that he had been enjoying it by the end, so he couldn’t really call it that either, could he? Then again, there was the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt when he never slept without one, and it was especially chilly in the living room. He exhaled a burst of air and fell back onto the sofa, pressing a hand to his eyes. It had felt so _real_. 

For a while, Jaime remained on his side, gathering himself and trying to figure out if it had been a dream after all or not. It was just as he was coming to the conclusion that there was no way in hell that Ryan would have done such a thing, when his roommate’s bedroom door opened and Ryan stepped out, wearing only his boxers as he usually did when he slept. Jaime began pushing himself up to sit, but an aching sensation from his ass made him yelp softly and stop short. If it had been a dream, this was the most realistic one he’d had in his life, that was for sure. 

Ryan lingered in the doorway. That was unlike him. He was usually very deliberate in everything he did. After a second, he strode toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. He gulped it down, then refilled the glass and turned to bring it to the sofa. 

Jaime couldn’t bring himself to meet Ryan’s gaze, and kept his eyes on the papers that were strewn across the floor. Even if it had been a dream, he felt ashamed somehow, as though Ryan might be able to read his mind if their eyes met. He could see the glass of water being offered to him out of the corner of his eye, and slowly reached out to take it. 

“About last night...” Ryan finally spoke. Jaime’s mind began racing in an attempt to try to work out what Ryan was talking about. What had happened yesterday aside from that crazy dream? All he could remember was that Ryan had gone out clubbing and Jaime had stayed home to study, then Ryan had come home piss-drunk, and then— 

“I didn’t mean to...” Ryan trailed away. He seemed to struggle with the right words. 

Jaime waited anxiously. He was now completely unsure again of what was reality and what wasn’t. Maybe he was actually still dreaming. 

Ryan sighed lowly and raised a hand to his forehead. “Look, I can’t ask you to forget about what I—what happened last night, but... I was wasted. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was a mistake.” 

There was no way Ryan would be saying this if it had all been a dream. Jaime was sure of it now. His chest tightened and twisted into itself. He gave a small shudder. It felt as though his insides had been submerged in ice. “I thought it was— I thought I dreamt it. You’re saying it did actually happen?” He knew now, but he wanted to hear it from Ryan. It would only be real if Ryan said so. 

“Well, yeah. I mean... There’s no way we dreamt the exact same thing, is there?” 

Loose strands of hair fell over Jaime’s eyes as he bent his elbow to lean forward, relieving the pressure on his sore backside. “Yeah, guess not.” He let out a small hiss of pain when he tried sitting up again. If anything, this pain was definitive proof that it hadn’t been a dream after all. Ryan had just said as much, too. He hesitated before daring to glance up through the curtain of his red hair. Ryan’s usual impassive expression was on his face, except for the fact that his eyebrows were ever so slightly furrowed. They’d been furrowed just like that yesterday. Jaime felt his heart thump in his chest just a bit harder. 

A ringing silence hung between them for another minute. Eventually, Jaime leaned forward to put the empty glass of water down on the coffee table. Ryan still didn’t say anything. 

“Um... You probably want to say that we should just forget about it but... I don’t think I can. Sorry. It’s just...not something I can make myself forget that easily,” Jaime finally spoke up after a while, his eyes steadfastly on the glass. He could just make out Ryan’s reflection in it, upside-down and warped. 

Just like everything was right now. Upside-down and warped. 

There was a low rustling sound before the sofa cushion sank a little as Ryan sat down as well. “Yeah... Yeah, makes sense. Can’t blame you,” he said lowly. He let out a long breath as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “What do you want to do then?” 

“I don’t know.” Jaime had no idea what he was supposed to do, let alone what he wanted to do. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He knew what he _wanted_ to do. In his fantasies, this was the moment he took charge of the situation and kissed Ryan, and then they made tender, delicate love. But in reality, that would probably just make things worse. 

They sat for another few minutes in complete silence. The streak of sunlight that had woken Jaime was now falling across his feet, and he focused his eyes on the illuminated wood grain patterns of the floorboards. There were a dozen different things rushing through his mind, but none of them seemed to make even a single comprehensive thought. It was probably best to keep silent instead, so he did. 

Eventually, Ryan shifted so that he was turned toward Jaime, but Jaime didn’t move. He knew he still couldn’t meet Ryan’s gaze. His composure hinged on this one fact; that he kept from looking into the depths of those brilliantly green eyes. 

“I’ll make some breakfast,” Ryan said at last. He hesitated for a second before he got to his feet and strode over to the kitchen. 

Jaime let out a breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. So they were going to go take the pretend-it-never-happened route after all. Maybe that was for the better. It wasn’t as though Ryan would suddenly be interested in him now, and it sure as hell wasn’t likely for him to be willing to date Jaime after one drunken mistake, as Ryan had just put it. No, this way was best. Even if there had been the slightest chance of Jaime’s dreams becoming a reality, this wasn’t how it was meant to start. 


	4. The warrantless raid by the vulgar detective

Under the pretense of studying together for a midterm, Sara came over to Jaime’s apartment for the first time since she’d dropped off the miniature cactus that now inhabited the windowsill. He suspected she’d only done so in order to check out Ryan again, but he’d told her as soon as he’d let her in that his roommate was out at that moment. It was a relief as well, considering Jaime hadn’t been able to even look at Ryan without feeling like he was going to pass out from a distinct lack of oxygen to his brain. 

Clearly disappointed, Sara had promptly foregone the studying and was instead preening in front of the mirror in Jaime’s bedroom while blathering about something or other. Jaime had at least tried to keep up the act though, and had a textbook in his lap as he sat cross-legged on his bed, but he hadn’t even glanced at it since opening it to a random page that was nowhere near the page marker that had been stuck into it. Instead, he was blankly staring at the cactus and absent-mindedly twisting a lock of hair around his fingers. It took a while before he realized that his ears were ringing for some reason. 

“Jaaaaiiii-jaaaaiiii. Jaime!” 

Sara was practically shouting into his face. 

Grimacing at the sheer volume of her voice, Jaime tore his eyes away from Monday and looked up at Sara. “You’re going to make me deaf. I heard you the first time.” He’d heard her, but he definitely hadn’t been paying her any attention, and she never liked that. But right now, all he could think about was the way that Ryan’s husky voice had sounded in his ear instead — 

“Uh huh. Yeah, sure. So, what do you think then?” 

—the way those smouldering green eyes had stared at him so intensely— 

“Well?” 

—the way their bodies had moved together, intertwined and interconnected— 

“Jaime! For fuck’s sakes, what’s gotten into you?” Sara huffed, “I swear to god, it’s like I’m talking to myself here. What. Do. You. Think?” 

Jaime could feel a heat rising to his cheeks at the last image that had flashed through his mind, and he quickly brought himself out of his own head to focus on Sara. “Uh, about what?” 

With a sigh, Sara shook her head, blonde curls bouncing about her cheeks. “The hair, dumbass. I was thinking of getting a perm.” 

Jaime blinked. He stared at Sara, baffled, before slowly saying, “But it’s already curled. What do you need a perm for?” 

“Because this is not _permanent_ , duh. Ally let me borrow her curling iron this morning so I could try it out and see if I like it, but it’s so much damn effort. I was thinking of getting a perm so I don’t need to do it every day.” 

“Okay...?” 

“So? Should I or should I not?” 

“I don’t know. It looks fine either way, I guess.” 

“You’re the worst. Are you sure you’re even gay?” 

“Mm...” 

Sara’s eyes narrowed at him the way they always did when her sixth sense picked up on whatever strange thought was going through his mind at the moment. “Alright, spill.” 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Jaime asked in feigned ignorance. Despite himself, he nervously licked his lips and flicked his eyes toward the door. 

His gestures were extremely subtle, or so he’d hoped, but Sara’s sixth sense was no match for him. She immediately marched toward the door and yanked it open to peer outside. There was clearly nobody there, so she continued her investigations out in the living room, with Jaime trailing after her. Almost like a sniffer dog, she hunted high and low for any signs of suspicious activity, shuffling through the bills and half-opened envelopes on the coffee table, squinting at an almost-finished mug of coffee, even flipping over the cushions on the sofa and patting them down as if she might discover some illicit materials within them. For a panicked moment, Jaime thought that Sara had detected something on the cushions, a trace of something that he thought he’d thoroughly cleaned off after what had transpired several nights before, but eventually she stood up with nothing and her face fell. 

“Are you done with your raid now? And by the way, I don’t remember seeing your search warrant, officer,” Jaime said irritably. He flopped down on the sofa. A little too hard for that matter, because he gave an inadvertent wince as the memory of what had happened exactly where he was now sitting on had been stuck to the spot and stabbed his ass. Knowing all too well that Sara had probably picked up on this, he kept his gaze firmly on the cushions that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the floor. The same cushions that he’d been lying on just a couple days ago, or rather, had been pushed down on. The same cushions that his and Ryan’s bodies had rubbed against. 

“So.” 

This time, Jaime knew he had been caught, because he couldn’t stop the flush in his cheeks. He didn’t say anything and just waited for Sherlock Sara to deduce what had happened. 

“So,” Sara said again, this time much more deliberately, “How are things with your roommate?” 

“It’s fine, I guess...” 

“You guess. Just like you guess that you’re gay. And like you guess that he’s straight.” 

Jaime was sure his face was the same colour as his hair by now. “I— He’s— Well, I don’t—I don’t actually know for sure...” Not anymore, anyway. At the very least, Ryan had to be of the not-completely-straight persuasion. 

“How’s his dick, then?” 

“Sara!” Jaime’s voice cracked like he was going through puberty again. Hell, he _felt_ like he was going through puberty again, what with all these confusing thoughts and sexual images flashing through his mind at all the wrong times and places. Especially these thoughts about Ryan’s bright green eyes, the firmness of his chest muscles, the slight ripples of his bare abs in the morning as he took a drink of water— 

“I knew it. I fucking _knew_ it,” Sara gloated at him. “I _knew_ there was something going on between you guys.” Her mouth widened into a toothy grin. “Feel any different, now that you’re not a virgin anymore?” 

“Sara! I’m— I mean, it’s not— It wasn’t— We’re not...like that...” The words were just as scrambled in Jaime’s mouth as the thoughts in his brain. 

What _were_ they now, he and Ryan, if they weren’t ‘like that’? They hadn’t discussed things since that morning after, when it had pretty much seemed like they’d nonverbally agreed to pretend like nothing had happened. But despite that, Ryan had been gentler, a little kinder, and a lot less distant toward Jaime the past few days. Jaime was even sure that he’d caught Ryan’s eyes lingering on him, when before Ryan wouldn’t have even looked in his direction. But still, that didn’t mean that they were...well, anything more than roommates. Were they? 

“Well, give me the nasty details. How’d it go down? Did he fuck you or did you fuck him?” Sara bounced onto the sofa next to Jaime eagerly. “How big’s his dick? He’s not cut, is he? Does it lean left or right? What positions did you—” 

Jaime buried his burning face into his hands with a soft whimper. Even though there was obviously nobody else with them to hear that, he felt so embarrassed that he felt like melting away into the very sofa that he’d—well, almost done a few days ago, but for a completely different reason. “Oh my god, Sara...” She wasn’t the kind of person to ever mince her words, but this was way too vulgar, even for her. 

“What? I’ve been waiting for the day you’d get laid so we can finally have our girls’ locker room talk,” Sara whined, innocently blinking her wide eyes at him. “I mean, I’ve only seen the guy like once, but hot _damn_. If you weren’t into him, I totally would have jumped his bones by now. I bet he’s got a really thick—” 

“We didn’t make love,” Jaime quickly cut her off. “Well, no, I mean... We kind of did. I guess. I think. I don’t fucking know. It was...really weird.” 

An inkling of a laugh crossed Sara’s face, but she didn’t and merely kept smirking. “‘ _Make love_ ’? Seriously? Oh, my dear sweet summer child. It’s still sex even if you didn’t go all the way, you know.” 

“That’s not what I mean. I mean... We _did_...go all the way, but...” With an anguished groan, Jaime began rubbing his eyes with his fingertips, face still firmly planted in his hands. 

“But _what_? Jesus fucking Christ, Jaime. I don’t got all day, you know.” 

Jaime let out a deep sigh as he tried to string semi-coherent sentences together. “I... Well... He came home drunk a few nights ago. He said he was going to go clubbing, but then he came back pretty early. And he was really drunk. I was just trying to study, but then he... He was lying on the sofa and I was just sitting on the floor. I don’t even know how it happened but he somehow...got me up on the sofa with him and then...” Taking a gulp, Jaime paused for a moment. Sara’s eyes bored holes into the side of his head, and even though Jaime wasn’t able to see her with his eyes closed, he could feel the laser-like stare. 

“Uh-huh. And then?” 

“And then... He said something... I don’t really remember.” That was a lie. Jaime could remember every single word. “Then he took off my shirt and put my hands behind my back with it somehow, and he...in his hand...between my...in me...” He trailed away meekly, cheeks burning up again. 

Silently, Sara processed all of this. Her gaze never left the side of Jaime’s face, as he saw when he removed his fingers from his eyes just enough to be able to see her out of the corner of his sight. After what felt like ten minutes, she finally spoke. 

“Jaime. Did he force you?” 

Lifting his head slowly to look at Sara, Jaime swallowed a dry lump in his throat. “Um... Well, sort of? Not really. I mean, I told him he was really drunk and that he shouldn’t use me to get off, but I guess I didn’t... _actually_ say no? And after a while, it started feeling really, really good, so I just... I mean, in the end I...uh...” He had enjoyed it. Enjoyed it so much that he ended up coming pitifully fast. 

Sara continued studying Jaime’s face with her lips so tightly pressed together they drew into a nearly straight line. “So he came onto you while he was drunk. And you didn’t say no. And it turned you on so much you ejaculated prematurely,” she said flatly at last. 

“I didn’t say that last part—” 

“Bitch, you didn’t have to.” With a soft sigh, Sara shook her head. “Okay. Fine. So it was probably not like...the _best_ way for you to lose your virginity. But you still enjoyed it?” 

“Um... Yeah, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“I did.” A lot. 

“Good.” Normal Sara’s normal smile was finally returning to her face now. “I’m so proud of my little Jai-jai, all grown up now. You’ve finally become a man.” She paused suddenly, her smile wavering. “Did you guys talk about it after?” 

Jaime didn’t know what to say to this. Did it really count as talking, the few sentences that he’d exchanged with Ryan the following morning? There hadn’t really been a conclusion to that ‘conversation’, either. “We... Sort of. I mean, we talked about it the next morning, kind of, but we didn’t really go beyond just...acknowledging that it happened.” 

“What the hell does that even mean? So what’re you gonna do now? You know you still have to live with the guy for at least another semester.” 

Sighing heavily, Jaime shook his head. “I don’t know... I really don’t know. I’ll just have to see how things go, and go from there, I guess.” 

Sara echoed Jaime’s sigh, but she was smiling. It wasn’t as wide as before, but at least she didn’t seem as concerned anymore. “Well, what can I say. You’re a real man now, so now you’ve got real man problems to deal with.” 


	5. The unmade sandwich incident

If Jaime had thought his previous plan of keeping his distance from Ryan and being more roommate-like was difficult to stick to, it was nothing like the current plan, which was to pretend like nothing had happened and avoid Ryan as much as humanly possible. They had rarely been at the apartment at the same time before, but now their schedules suddenly lined up perfectly so that it seemed like whenever Jaime came home, Ryan was already there. It was like trying to hide from the sunlight on a summer afternoon in the park. 

Jaime resorted to shutting himself in his room most of the time when he was at the apartment. He no longer studied in the living room, and when he wasn’t bolting for the door to leave for classes, he would tiptoe to the bathroom or rush to get himself food from the kitchen after pressing his ear to the door to listen and make sure Ryan wasn’t outside. It was pathetic, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make sure he didn’t have to face Ryan again. Expectedly, he wasn’t able to completely avoid his roommate, though. At times, he would be in the kitchen or living room when Ryan came home, at which Jaime would haphazardly finish up whatever he’d been doing and make a break for his room. 

It was all going mostly to plan, except that Ryan would occasionally and unknowingly sabotage the plan. 

One time when Jaime was hurrying by, Ryan turned from the table to say, “Hey, I already paid this month’s bills on Tuesday. Statements are right here if you want to check them.” 

“O-oh, yeah, okay. Thanks. Yeah. I’ll pay you back for my half.” Jaime stopped in the doorway to his room, only one step away from his hideout. He stared down at the floor with his hand on the doorknob, ready to close it as soon as he could. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just leave it on the table and I’ll get it later.” 

“O-okay.” With a louder slam than he’d intended, Jaime closed the door after slipping inside. 

Then there was the time that they’d almost had a conversation, and Jaime had gotten Ryan’s number. 

Jaime had been practically speed-walking from the bathroom to his room and stopped halfway when he heard Ryan talking to him. 

“Hey, have you seen my phone?” Ryan asked. He was lifting up the books and papers on the coffee table, then started digging his hand in between the back of the sofa and the seat. “Shit. Think I lost it.” 

Jaime’s knuckles tightened in the midst of his squeezing the towel around the ends of his hair. “Uh, no. I haven’t.” He gave a perfunctory look around the living room, even though he knew the phone would have been found by now if it had been visible in the first place. “Um, do you want me to help you look for it?” 

“Can you try calling it? I looked everywhere but I couldn't find it. Might have left it on campus.” 

“Oh, uh, sure.” Jaime walked the rest of the way into his room and tossed the towel onto the back of his chair before he grabbed his own phone from his desk and unlocked it. He scrolled most of the way through the contact list before realizing that Ryan’s number wouldn’t be there. Walking back out to the living room, he said, “I don’t have your number.” 

Jaime approached Ryan, who was now on his hands and knees trying to peer under the sofa, to hand the phone over. When Ryan straightened up, their eyes met and they both froze. It was the first time since that one night that they had actually looked at each other. The tension was so tangible, it was like a thick smog had descended into the room. Jaime’s face became hotter the longer Ryan’s eyes stared into his. For a split second, he thought he saw those green eyes flicker toward his damp red hair, but then Ryan reached out to take the phone and dropped his gaze to dial his own number. 

They strained their ears to listen for a ringing, but all they heard was the low humming of the kitchen appliances and the faint noises from the street outside the window. 

“Fuck. It’s probably on silent,” Ryan muttered in annoyance. He groped around in between the sofa seat cushions again, but still finding nothing, got up and strode over to his bedroom. Without even thinking, Jaime followed after him and stood in the doorway to watch Ryan ruffle through the bed sheets. 

Jaime’s eyes swept the room. He hadn’t seen the inside of Ryan’s room since the day they’d moved in, and it was with mild surprise that he saw that it was considerably well-kept. Not completely tidy like his own, but aside from some clothes scattered around and the messy bed — made messier by Ryan’s ransacking of it — it was much cleaner than any of the dorm rooms Jaime had had the misfortune of being in. 

“Aha! Fucking found it,” Ryan said, straightening up from the bed and triumphantly holding up his vibrating phone. He ended the call from Jaime’s phone and handed it back. “Thanks.” As Jaime tore his eyes away from Ryan’s desk and reached out to take it, Ryan added, “You should save my number, by the way.” 

“Huh? Why?” 

“In case I lose my phone again?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. 

Jaime hadn’t seen this kind of amused expression on Ryan’s face before, and he was at a loss for words again. 

“Or, y’know, in case either of us get locked out or something.” 

“Oh. Oh, right, yeah. Sure, yeah,” Jaime spluttered. Of course it was perfectly normal for roommates to have each others’ numbers in case of emergencies, so he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting Ryan to say. 

Right then, he became suddenly very aware of the fact that he was standing inside Ryan’s room with sopping wet hair, his hand still outstretched with the phone he’d just taken back. He shook some sense into himself and hurriedly turned to leave. 

“Thanks for the help.” 

Jaime was already fleeing by the time Ryan had said it, so he didn’t have time to respond before slipping back into the safety of his own bedroom. 

And then there was the unmade sandwich incident. 

Jaime had just started making himself a sandwich in the kitchen when Ryan had come home, a little earlier than usual. Startled, Jaime looked up before turning his attention back to the toast he’d just pulled from the toaster. He decided instantly to make the sandwich in record time so that he could run to his room with it. But it seemed he wouldn’t have such an easy getaway this time around, because Ryan had walked toward the fridge after tossing his backpack onto the sofa and greeted him. 

“Hey.” Opening the fridge, Ryan reached in and pulled out a beer. 

“He-i.” Jaime cringed. How was it possible to mess up pronouncing two letters? 

Ryan opened the bottle and took a sip before slowly saying, “I know you’ve been avoiding me the past week, but—” 

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Jaime lied through his teeth. 

“Really.” 

Jaime sheepishly stared down at the slices of bread on the plate in front of him. He hadn’t really expected Ryan to believe that, but it was still humiliating how transparent he apparently was. “Okay, yeah. I guess I’ve been avoiding you...a bit.” 

“You guess?” 

Jaime fleetingly wondered if Ryan was secretly related to Sara somehow. 

“Okay... So I _have_ been avoiding you. But...” The words jumped back into his throat and he swallowed them. He wanted to say that he was only avoiding Ryan because he was holding back from throwing himself at Ryan, and because he didn’t want to make things worse by doing so. Just as Sara had said, they still had to live together for at least another semester, and if he could at least salvage the situation by keeping things at this level of awkwardness by avoiding Ryan... Well, that had been the plan, anyway. 

None of his plans seemed to work these days. 

In the silence that followed, Jaime picked up a slice of toast and slowly resumed making his sandwich, even though he was no longer feeling hungry at all. He only got as far as buttering one slice before there were hands suddenly at his waist. He froze, unsure of how to react, unsure of whether he should say something. Deciding it would be best to not to do anything, he kept acting like nothing had happened, and nothing was happening. 

One hand slid up his side, dragging the hem of his shirt with it. Jaime’s breath caught in his throat and he dropped the butterknife, with only half of the slice of toast slathered with butter. He reached to pick it up again, hands lightly trembling, but his fingers didn’t have a chance to grasp the handle when an exhale of breath just beneath his ear made him stop short. “Um... Ryan?” 

Ryan let out another deep breath. “If you don’t want this, just say,” he murmured. 

“Um... That’s not— I mean, I don’t— What’re you doing?” 

Without replying, Ryan moved his other hand to Jaime’s hip. Fingertips swirled delicately along the skin of his pelvic bone. Nuzzling Jaime’s neck gently with his nose, Ryan inhaled the scent of the dark red hair. Something hot and hard started tenting the front of his pants at his groin and nudged Jaime’s backside. 

An uncomfortable aching in the front of his own jeans made it difficult for Jaime to say anything. He groaned lowly as his growing erection was constricted by the fabric of his jeans. “If you keep doing that, I’ll...” He didn’t know what he would do if he lost control, though. He wanted to do so many different things. Wanted to glide his hands all over Ryan’s body. Wanted to turn around and grab Ryan’s face to kiss him deeply. Wanted to get onto his knees and then suck Ryan off so hard— 

Jaime spun around and faced Ryan. He was momentarily thrown — as he always seemed to be — by the sight of those deep green eyes, but his little head took over the task of thinking, and he wheezed, “Ryan, I—” He swallowed hard. This was too close to how one of his fantasies had played out. Too close, and just within the grasp of reality. “C-can I...go down on you?” Blood was furiously pulsing through every part of his body, especially in his groin, but he kept his eyes locked on Ryan’s. 

Nodding tersely, Ryan took a step back to make space, though his hands remained on either side of Jaime’s hips. They slid down a little further before they were up by Jaime’s head when he dropped to his knees in the space between them. 

Jaime reached his hands up to fumble with the button and zipper of the fly, and with quivering fingers, tugged down the jeans and the boxers beneath them. He took in the sight with ravenous eyes. Considering what they had already done, this was actually the first time he was seeing _all_ of Ryan. It was not quite what he’d fantasized, but it was somehow even better, somehow even more enticing, even more tempting, even more desirable. 

With a soft exhale, Jaime leaned his head forward and took Ryan’s semi-erect dick into his eager mouth. He felt a strain on his jaws as he opened them wide to take everything in, but he was instantly transported into a swell of lust. He let out a soft moan around Ryan’s hardening erection, the fingers of one hand encircling the base of it, as he started bobbing his head back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. His other hand moved down between his own legs, slid down into his pants, freed his own hard-on from the fabric, and began stroking it. He could feel Ryan’s fingers weaving fervently through his hair. 

While one of Ryan’s hands clenched Jaime’s hair tighter, the other hand stroked the locks gently before abruptly grabbing the back of Jaime’s head to hold it in place. “Shit,” Ryan hissed as he began slamming in and out of Jaime's lips. 

Jaime clenched his eyes shut and let out what he knew was an obscene moan as he sucked harder. This was so much like how he’d imagined it, so perfect, and he was so damn close. He pulled his mouth back for a brief gasping breath and moaned again, this time louder, before flicking his tongue over the tip of Ryan’s dick, and then replacing his entire mouth over the entirety of it. Shortly after, he cupped his hand over the tip of his own dick to catch whatever came out as he heatedly moaned again. His come spurted onto his fingers, and then trickled through his fist, some of it dripping onto the tiled floor. 

Ryan’s movements became quicker and rougher, and his hands tightened their grips around the back and side of Jaime’s head, fingers still entangled in silky red hair. Jaime tried hard not to gag when the harsh thrusts nearly choked him. He started to panic when he realized that he hadn’t thought his far ahead and didn’t know if he was supposed to — or going to — swallow. The decision was luckily made for him, when the hand behind his head yanked his head back so that his mouth was no longer around Ryan, and the other hand moved to catch the come. 

Ryan slowly exhaled as he came down from his release before reaching to tear a sheet of paper towel from the roll on the kitchen countertop and clean his hand off with it. He passed one to Jaime as well, who numbly rubbed his hand off as well as the floor between his knees. Panting softly, Jaime wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand and tentatively got to his feet. Once Ryan had zipped himself back up again, Jaime let his gaze drift up to his face. 

Their eyes met and they both stood still, simply staring at each other in silence, before Ryan took a step closer and raised a hand to gently tuck a loose strand of red hair behind Jaime’s ear. His fingers didn’t let go right away, but slid down to the ends of the long lock of hair. He brought the strand of hair up just a bit, his green eyes flashing momentarily, and then let go so that the hair fell back softly against Jaime’s collarbone. 

“Ryan, I...” Jaime began hoarsely, but he trailed off when words failed him. He licked his warmly tingling lips, but they were already slick. “I’m sor—” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ryan said, his voice low and husky. He tossed the crumpled piece of paper towel into the garbage bin. 

“I— Uh, right. Sorry. I mean— Sor— Shit.” Jaime bit back a whimper of embarrassment. Maybe he was becoming subconsciously suicidal, with how often he wanted to die from his own sheer stupidity these days. 

A small burst of air came from Ryan’s nose. It wasn’t quite a chuckle, but Jaime still heard the amusement above the pounding in his ears. 

“Are you going to keep avoiding me still?” 

His mind full to bursting with confusion, Jaime reached up to absently twirl the same lock of hair that Ryan had just caressed. “I... Um...no? I mean, I guess not. No.” When Jaime looked up again, Ryan had a small, lop-sided smile on his face. 

Ryan reached out a hand toward Jaime’s face and hesitated only briefly before moving his fingers to lightly stroke another strand of hair that had fallen across Jaime’s cheek. 

“Good.” 

... 

Sara’s sixth sense seemed to pick up on things, even when she wasn’t in close vicinity to Jaime. After several days of radio silence, presumably because she was busy cramming for her midterms, she texted Jaime the next morning. She wanted to meet up at the coffee shop just off campus that they normally went to, because she needed to go somewhere other than the library or the dorms even for a little bit. Jaime often found himself forgetting that Sara was actually a very keen student and usually got decent grades, in spite of her usual weekend habits. 

To Jaime’s relief, Ryan hadn’t come out of his bedroom by the time Jaime snuck out of the apartment in the morning. He needed time to think, and seeing Ryan again might have just made him shut himself in his room yet again, despite what he’d said about not avoiding his roommate anymore. Once outside the apartment, Jaime let out a deep breath as if he’d been holding it the entire way, and headed for the metro station. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he’d almost missed his stop, and only just managed to get off the train in time before the doors closed on him. The bustle of morning commuters around him didn’t even pull him out of his daze as he automatically walked toward the familiar coffee shop. 

“Hey, Jules. Julia!” someone called out from behind him. Jaime didn’t register this and continued his disoriented walking, but then a hand pulled on his shoulder gently to turn him around. 

“Jules! I didn’t know you were back already. I thought you were still in Euro—” 

Jaime stared at the stranger in startled confusion. 

“Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else,” the woman apologized once she’d shaken herself of the initial shock of Jaime’s face not being the one she’d expected. She peered at him in muted awe. “That’s so weird. You look exactly like her from the back. Same hair and everything. You’re not her twin or something, are you?” 

“Uh... Sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Jaime replied, now even more confused than before. 

“Oh. Maybe it’s a weird doppelgänger thing then. Anyway, sorry about that.” She turned and walked back in the direction she’d originally come from. Jaime stared at her back for a moment, still puzzling over what that had been all about, but eventually continued making his way to the coffee shop. 

When he plunked down across from Sara at a table in the coffee shop, he was still perplexed by the interaction. “The weirdest thing happened just now,” he started without even greeting her, “Somebody thought I was someone else and then asked me if I had a twin.” 

Sara looked up from the notes spread out in front of her on the small circular table, her mouth still on the straw of her iced mocha. She raised an eyebrow at Jaime and took a loud sip. “Yeah, and? How’s that weird? It’s a big city. Tons of people probably look like each other.” 

“Yeah, maybe, but...” Jaime frowned, his eyes on the brown-and-white swirls inside the clear plastic cup of Sara’s drink. The memory had only just come back to him when the woman had said ‘twin’. “The thing is... Ryan asked me something like that too. The first day we moved in.” 

And then all the other thoughts about Ryan came crashing back. 

“Oh my god, Sara, you were right.” Jaime wailed, leaning forward to thunk his forehead against the table. “You were so damn right.” 

Sara scoffed. “Well, duh. I’m always right. But what was I right about this time, exactly?” 

Jaime sighed so deeply that he felt Sara’s notes flutter a little around his face on the table. “Ryan. You were right about him. And me. I mean, about me, about...him. Oh god...” He smacked his forehead on the table a couple times. The physical pain didn’t lessen the psychological ones. 

“What the hell are you talking about? I thought you guys are already fucking,” Sara asked. She leaned forward and stuck her hand out so that Jaime’s forehead hit her palm instead of the table. “And stop that, you idiot. You’ll get a bruise on that pretty face of yours.” 

“We only did that once. That one time,” Jaime muttered. He rolled his head off Sara’s hand and pressed his cheek to the table instead, looking up at her with a despondent expression. “But I’ve been trying to avoid him ever since then, because it was just too fucking awkward.” 

Sara rolled her eyes hard. “That’s your way of ‘seeing how it goes’? Hole up in your room like a hermit and sneak around your own damn apartment that took you ages to even find in the first place? Yeah, great plan,” she said snidely. “How’s that working out for you?” 

“Well... Turns out it wasn’t actually a good plan after all.” 

“No shit.” 

“He, uh... Well...” Jaime hesitated, waiting to see if the tabletop would cool down his increasingly warm face, but it didn’t seem to have any effect. He sighed again and this time a piece of paper drifted dangerously close to the edge of the table. 

“You do realize you’re studying _English_ , right? You should try using the damn language once in a while.” 

“It’s not exactly that easy lately,” Jaime mumbled. His mind flashed back to that first day again, when he thought he’d offended Ryan by joking about his major. Idly, he picked at a chipped edge of the wooden tabletop. 

After another breath, he told Sara about the unmade sandwich incident, though he was careful not to go into explicit detail. Even just talking about it there, in a coffee shop surrounded by people, made him feel self-conscious and embarrassed. When Jaime finally lifted his cheek from the table and slouched back in his chair instead, he saw Sara with a stunned look on her face. 

“Wait... So you actually said you wanted to suck him off, and then he let you?” she asked, a little too loudly. 

Jaime shushed her in a panic, eyes darting around at the people sitting around them to check if they’d heard her. Nobody seemed to even notice they were sitting there. “Keep your voice down,” he pleaded, “And yes. I did. And I can’t believe I actually did that and it’s so fucking embarrassing I wanna just _die_ —” 

“You. Offered.” Sara was still looking amazed. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could put it that way.” 

“You. You, Can’t-Even-Say-the-Word-Sex Jaime, actually said that.” 

Feeling impatient, Jaime huffed, “Yes, I did. Can we—” 

“I’m so _proud_ of you!” Sara’s mouth was turned up in a devilish grin and her eyes were glittering with glee. “My innocent little Jai-jai, all grown up and offering his boyfriend blowjobs—” 

“ _Ssh!_ ” Jaime hissed, shooting an arm out to slap a hand over her mouth. “Not so loud, okay?” He did another sweep of their surroundings, but the other coffee shop patrons were engrossed in their own conversations, laptops, or phones. 

Indignantly, Sara knocked his hand away. “Okay, okay, damn. Watch where you put your hand, buddy.” She took a long slurp of iced mocha as if to wash out the taste of Jaime’s hand. “So what happened after? I take it you didn’t actually talk about it. Again.” 

Shaking his head, Jaime reached up and twiddled with a lock of hair. “No... Well, it definitely wasn’t like... _the_ talk or anything,” he mumbled, “But... He did ask me if I was going to keep avoiding him. And I said no.” He shot Sara a suspicious glance when he remembered how Ryan had called him out on his ‘ _I guess_ ’ like Sara always did. Maybe she had been behind this whole thing, like she was the secret mastermind of some grandiose plot to get Jaime to admit he was hopelessly smitten with his roommate. 

“That’s it? That’s all you guys fucking said?” This time, it was Sara’s turn to sigh. “ _Boys_. I swear to god,” she muttered under her breath, almost inaudibly. 

“What else are we supposed to say?” Jaime was starting to get a little irritated. “I mean, we’re roommates. It’s not like we can just start going out with each other or something. And besides...” He frowned a little and slumped lower down in his chair. “Isn’t he...? I mean, he had a girlfriend before. I thought he’s straight.” 

“Yeah, because straight guys totally just come home drunk and fuck their guy roommates and give them the reach-around before they get a blowjob,” Sara snorted. 

“Stop exaggerating. He didn’t give me the rea—he didn’t do that.” 

“Even so. Still not exactly very straight behaviour, is it?” 

Jaime exhaled and slid down so far in the chair that he was almost sliding underneath the table. “No... I guess not...” 

“So he’s probably bi or something. Who knows?” Sara shrugged. “Anyway, he’s clearly into you too, so what does it matter?” 

“I guess...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favourite chapter title by far lol.
> 
> Unsolicited trivia: This story takes place in a specific city/university and while procrastinating (as I do), I spent way too long looking up places IRL for the different settings, like the coffee shop and the apartment. Even looked up some of the classes they'd be hypothetically taking for the semester. And of course none of that is actually used in the story. :D
> 
> Anyway thanks to everybody who's been enjoying this story so far. Your kudos are much appreciated. <3


	6. A new tradition for more than just Fridays

His midterm exam marks weren’t quite what Jaime had been hoping for, but Jaime knew precisely why two of them were dismally worse than the rest, based on the days that those exams had fallen on. There would be other assignments that could salvage his final marks, though, so he wasn’t too concerned by this. 

What he was concerned with was the fact that he didn’t get to see much of Ryan at the apartment anymore. It seemed like their schedules were back to the original rotation that they had been, so that their classes were just at all the wrong times for them to be at home at the same time. There hadn’t been any other opportunities for them to do anything beyond greet each other in passing as one or the other left for class. 

Still, Jaime was comforted by the fact that Ryan seemed to linger a little longer whenever they could steal glances at each other, with an expression like he wanted to say something. He never did, but Jaime kept up the hope that maybe Ryan would ask him to skip class with him one of these days, and then they would just spend all day in bed together, even though Jaime knew that kind of fantasy only happened in rom-coms or cheesy romance novels and never in real life. 

To his even greater comfort, Sara had yet to drag him out on Fridays, even with midterm exams being over. She said that while she much preferred Jaime as her bar buddy, she would call upon her backup buddies to allow Jaime to spend more time with Ryan on the weekends. Jaime chose not to tell her that he hadn’t actually had any time with his roommate at all, in case she changed her mind and decided to take Jaime along to the bar, after all. He was a little disappointed that Ryan still appeared to be going out with his friends on Fridays to the club, though he didn’t know for sure since he hadn’t had a chance to ask. 

After contemplating a number of different plans, Jaime decided that he would do nothing. Things never went according to plan anyway, so there didn’t seem to be any point in planning anything. He’d just have to act natural and hope for the best, though he wasn’t quite sure what the ‘best’ would be. So in the end, he got himself a beer and plopped down on the sofa to a long list of unwatched movies and shows, and picked one at random before settling in for the night. 

He had finished at least two mediocre movies and was a third of the way through the first season of a show he was forcing himself to get through only because Sara had sworn up and down that it was ‘ _the best thing since the invention of sandwiches_ ’ (a metaphor that Jaime knew she’d only made because of what he’d told her previously about _that_ incident), when Ryan returned. Sitting up straight on the sofa, Jaime glanced at his phone on the coffee table to check the time. It was well past one in the morning, so it wasn’t quite early anymore, but it wasn’t as late as Ryan tended to come home on Friday nights. 

“You’re back pretty early tonight again,” Jaime said with what he hoped was a nonchalant air. 

Ryan grunted in reply and threw his top half onto the sofa on his back so that his legs draped over the arm while his head fell onto the seat cushion, just inches from Jaime’s thigh. “Yeah. It was kinda dead tonight,” Ryan mumbled. 

When Jaime glanced down, he noticed that Ryan’s eyes were closed, a hand was carelessly over his chest, and a strand of black hair was coming loose from the styling gel that had held it up. Jaime’s lungs stopped working momentarily as indecent thoughts raced through his mind. Swallowing a breath, Jaime quickly drew his gaze back up to the TV screen. He’d missed a good portion of the episode, but he didn’t care. It had already started losing his attention an hour ago, and now it had no chance against the man lying next to him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime saw a hand suddenly appear next to his face. He gave a small jump and looked down before realizing that Ryan was reaching up to gently brush his knuckles against Jaime’s hair. 

Ryan’s eyes were open again. The fierce green irises pierced Jaime with a fervor that made him stop breathing altogether for what felt like ten minutes. The only sound in the room came from the TV as they sat wordlessly, Ryan’s fingers lazily stroking Jaime’s hair. 

“Um... Don’t you...want to go to sleep?” Jaime finally murmured. The words came from his mouth, but he didn’t know why he could only think of such an idiotic thing to say. “I mean, um... It’s late and you probably had a few drinks so— You’re probably tired.” 

“Do you want me to go?” Ryan asked. His voice was husky and low, but every word was clear. 

“No, I, uh... That’s not what I meant...” 

“Do you want to go with me?” 

Jaime sat immobile, still staring down at Ryan. 

“Well?” 

“I gue—” 

“You guess, huh.” 

“...Yes. Yeah, I do...” 

Despite how drunk he appeared to be, Ryan nimbly got to his feet and reached over to pull Jaime up off the sofa as well. With a low exhale, Ryan gently brushed the fingers of one hand along Jaime’s cheek, while the other hand slipped to Jaime’s lower back. He tilted his head in until his slightly-parted lips were just hovering underneath Jaime’s earlobe. 

Jaime let out a faint whimper when he felt the hot breath against the skin of his neck. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt his whole body heat up in anticipation. Before he knew what was happening, he felt himself being tugged by his upper arm toward Ryan’s bedroom. 

Seconds later, Jaime was lying on his back on top of the bed, barely able to take a gasp of breath. He saw Ryan take off his T-shirt and toss it to the floor, and quickly did the same with his own. When Ryan began fumbling with the button of his jeans, Jaime scrambled to his knees on the bed and reached forward to do it for him. He slid both pants and boxers down Ryan’s thighs and then waited while Ryan kicked them the rest of the way off his legs. Then Jaime grasped Ryan’s hardening erection and rubbed it a couple times before bending forward to wrap his lips around it. 

After a while, Ryan grabbed a fistful of Jaime’s hair to pull him away, then shoved him onto his back on the bed again. Jaime ripped off his own pants and underwear while Ryan climbed onto the bed above him. With a small gasp, Jaime felt himself being flipped over onto his stomach instead. He turned his cheek on Ryan’s pillow, deeply inhaling the scent of it before looking over to see Ryan open the drawer of the nightstand and rummage in it. 

“W-what are you looking for?” Jaime panted. He was grinding against the sheets without realizing it, although the friction didn’t satisfy him the way Ryan’s hands on his skin did. 

“Condoms,” Ryan grunted as he withdrew them at last, along with a bottle of lube. 

Jaime craned his neck around, trying to look over his shoulder when Ryan moved behind him, but he could only see a crown of black hair. He heard the bottle being opened, and then a second later gasped as a cold wetness pressed against his ass. “Shit. It’s cold.” 

“It’ll warm up.” Ryan continued pressing his finger inside Jaime. 

Squirming in mounting pleasure, Jaime lifted his hips off the bed slightly. At that angle, he could feel every knuckle of Ryan’s finger inside him. When another finger went in, he began panting heavily and clenched the sheets with tight fists. With the third finger, he felt like he was starting to lose his mind. “Ryan, fuck... Please...” 

The fingers withdrew, and then Jaime heard the condom wrapper being opened and then a shuffling sound behind him before he felt something more solid pressing into him. He groaned softly and gripped the blanket even harder. It felt different than it did the first time, but he figured it was because he was prepared for it now, and Ryan had put on the condom. That didn’t make it feel any less amazing though. If anything, it felt even better. 

Before long, Jaime was biting back desperate moans into the pillow on every exhale, while the smell of Ryan’s shampoo and natural scent filled his lungs with each inhale. One hand clung to any part of the sheets that they could hold onto, though with every deep thrust he found himself being pushed a little further up the bed, while the other hand pumped frantically over his own hard dick. 

Ryan’s right hand gripped the base of Jaime’s neck to keep him in place, while the fingertips of the left hand dug so hard into Jaime’s hip that he knew it would likely be bruised by morning. But he didn’t care about the marks because he wanted it, wanted to be branded and marked as belonging to Ryan like he was at that moment. 

When he felt a tug on his hair, Jaime groaned louder than before and arched his back. “F-fuck, Ryan... Oh, fuck, I’m going to—” Ryan’s thrusting sped up until Jaime could no longer think and only the pleasure was clouding his mind. Soon Jaime felt himself bursting and his entire body clenched into stillness as he came on the sheets. 

Ryan continued to slam into him, so Jaime reached back to grasp the hand on his hip. Jaime tried to turn his head so that he could look over his shoulder, since Ryan’s other hand had trailed down his spine to the small of his back instead. He wanted to look at Ryan. He wanted to see those green eyes in that moment of bliss, but he couldn’t. 

... 

This became their new Friday tradition. Jaime would stay home and pretend to study until he got bored enough to start watching whatever junk TV show or movie stood out to him on that day, and Ryan would go out as he usually did, presumably to the clubs with his friends. When Ryan got back sometime after midnight, Jaime would wait only just long enough to say something in greeting before they went to one of their bedrooms to fuck. Jaime found himself thinking more than once that he should just ask Ryan not to go out in the evening so they could spend more time together, but he had yet to muster the courage. 

He didn’t want to become needy and clingy when he wasn’t even sure whether he had any right to do that. They hadn’t had any more conversation about their new tradition—much to Sara’s growing exasperation—but they continued regardless. Eventually the tradition extended beyond just Friday nights, and a growing pile of incomplete assignments and readings began looming over Jaime’s conscience, but he found he didn’t really care anymore. 

“So you’re just fuck-buddies?” Sara demanded. She had barely managed to get a small table near the front of the unusually overcrowded coffee shop, and was now sitting across from Jaime with a disapproving look. “I get it, all you guys are terrified of talking to each other except by grunting like Neanderthals. But for fuck’s sakes, what the hell _are_ you and Ryan then?” 

“We’re...roommates...” Jaime muttered in the most drawn-out way he could while staring into the depths of his coffee. He had asked for it black — just like Ryan’s hair, but he had kept that comment to himself. He heard Sara sigh heavily. She did that a lot these days. 

“Roommates. With benefits?” 

“I guess you could say that...” 

“I swear to god, it’s getting so goddamn frustrating just watching you, I might just go over there one day and talk to him myself.” 

“Please don’t.” 

“Well, then _you_ fucking do it. God. It’s not that hard, you know. You talk to me all the time, and you’re still breathing. Why’s it so hard to talk to your _roommate_?” 

“I don’t know, okay? It’s just...hard.” Jaime swallowed some coffee to push down the lump in his throat, but instantly regretted it when the hot liquid burned his esophagus as it went down. “This...arrangement...thing…whatever you want to call it...is working just fine.” 

“Do you _want_ to be just fuck-buddies?” Sara asked, raising an eyebrow at Jaime. It was obvious from her expression that she already knew the answer, but was testing Jaime. Or maybe she was trying to trick him into saying something that he didn’t want to admit to. 

“Well... No, not really.” Sighing, Jaime put down his cup of coffee and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “But what the hell am I supposed to say to him, then? ‘ _Hey, Ryan, it’s great sleeping with you, but can we be a little less casual than that?_ ’” Even as he said it, he removed his hands from his eyes just enough to scan their perimeter to check whether anybody was listening in on their conversation. Normally, the coffee shop was fairly empty, but today it was so full of people, mostly tourists, that he could barely hear Sara, so he was relieved that it was unlikely they would be overheard. He really had to stop talking about such embarrassing topics with Sara out in public regardless. 

“That’s the best you can think of? Jesus tap-dancing Christ... Well, it’s a start at least.” Shaking her head so that her permed blonde curls bounced at her ears, Sara exhaled loudly again. “You don’t have to say it like that, but at least you need to ask where he sees things going. Like you said, you’re roommates. Haven’t you heard of, ‘ _Don’t shit where you eat_?’” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you told me that before,” Jaime said, frowning. “Okay, I’m confused now. So you think I should tell him we need to stop? Because we’re roommates?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“So then what, I’m supposed to tell him I want to go out with him for real?” 

“I didn’t say that either.” 

“Then _what_? What the hell are you saying I should do? One minute you’re saying I should talk to him about whatever it is we are, next minute you’re telling me not to shit where I eat. Make up your damn mind.” Jaime was angry and frustrated too now, and even though he wanted to blame Sara for this whole mess, he knew that she was actually just stating all the same confusing and conflicting things he had been thinking. 

“ _I_ don’t fucking know, do I? You have to decide what you want to do for yourself. I’m just telling you to be careful because I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“Thanks for the help, but that’s really not helpful at all.” 

“I do my best.” Sara slurped up the remaining bits of her long-since-melted iced mocha before getting to her feet and picking up her bag from the floor under her chair. “Anyway, I have to go print off some shit at the library so I’ll see you in class later. Oh, I almost forgot.” She rummaged through the bag before pulling out a box and a rounded bottle, then tossed both onto the table. “Think of it as an Easter present.” A malicious grin spread across her face. 

Jaime fumbled to pick up the bottle before it rolled away and read the label, then almost instantly his face turned a shade similar to his hair. In a panic, he threw his upper body over the table to sweep them together with his arms to hide them from the view of curious passersby, almost knocking over his coffee cup in the process. “S-S-Sara, what the hell! You can’t just throw these kinds of things around!” His widened eyes darted around. An elderly couple who had just stepped in through the glass doors flashed him an odd look, but they continued walking up to the counter to place their orders. 

“Oh my god, it’s _fine_. Nobody would have known what they were if _you_ didn’t freak out about it just now,” Sara huffed in exasperation. “Anyway, I figured you wouldn’t have the balls to go out and get them yourself, and it’s not fair to expect your _roommate_ to always spend his money to restock.” Sara gave him a meaningful look before pirouetting around with a wave of her hand and making her exit. 

As swiftly and covertly as he could, Jaime stuffed the box of condoms and bottle of lube into his own bag, and then hugged the bag to his thundering chest. 


	7. Price of a good fuck

The campus was mostly empty once the summer term rolled around. Unlike most of the other students from out of town, Jaime didn’t plan on leaving, and remained in the city as he had the previous summer. Although he had been worried that Ryan would go back to his hometown for the summer like everybody else, he’d been ecstatic to find out during a conversation they’d had shortly before their final exams about what their plans were, that Ryan would actually be staying as well. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m a few credits short of graduating,” Ryan grumbled in annoyance as he flicked through that month’s bills. “Gonna take a couple courses over the summer so I can just knock them out. Don’t really feel like waiting for the fall semester to finish.” He tossed the bills onto the table, apparently satisfied that they weren’t out of the ordinary. “What about you? You’re staying here, right?” 

Jaime nodded, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “Yeah, I don’t really go back home for any of the breaks,” he said. “I’m thinking of getting a summer job or something, so I can keep busy. My grant doesn’t cover the summer term so it’ll help with rent, too.” 

“Yeah? A buddy of mine works part-time at one of the bookstores near campus and he was saying they’re usually short-staffed for the summer since everybody leaves. Could ask him for you if you want, see if they’re still hiring.” 

“Oh, really? Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” Jaime broke into a smile. He wasn’t really all that excited about the job, but he _was_ excited about the prospect of meeting one of Ryan’s friends. 

With a nod, Ryan turned to look toward Jaime. “I’ll talk to him and see.” He paused for a moment before reaching down to grab the duffel bag that he’d dropped next to the table earlier before getting distracted by the bills. “Was thinking of picking up some food on the way back from the gym, since there’s not much left in the fridge. Want anything?” 

“Huh?” Jaime raised his head, having drifted off into his thoughts again momentarily. “Oh, uh, anything’s fine by me.” 

“Okay. I’ll message you later and let you know when I head back,” Ryan said as he headed out of the apartment. 

As the front door closed, Jaime slowly lowered himself onto the sofa, feverishly twirling his hair in his fingers. He wasn’t quite sure why he was feeling so nervous at the thought of meeting Ryan’s friend. It wasn’t as though they were going to hang out or anything, since it was really just about getting a summer job, but there was still the possibility that Ryan was actually opening up just a little bit more to him if he was okay with the idea of introducing Jaime to someone in his social circle. On top of that, if Jaime did manage to get the job, he’d be able to find out more about Ryan from his friend. Still, he also had the feeling he was reading a little too much into it, when it was more likely that Ryan was just trying to help him out. 

Having thoroughly confused himself after a few minutes of brooding, Jaime reached into his pocket for his phone and quickly dialled Sara’s phone number. Usually he would have asked to meet up with her to talk in person, but she had already gone back home for the summer the day after their last exam. 

She picked up after a few rings with a groggy-sounding, “Hngh?” 

“Were you sleeping?” Jaime asked incredulously. It was well into the afternoon. 

“Yuh. Wuz wrong?” 

“I need a ruling.” 

“Ugh, Jaime, I was in the middle of a really good nap, y’know.” Sara yawned so loudly that her voice crackled over the line. “What happened with your fuck-buddy roommate this time?” 

Jaime made a face that he knew she wouldn’t see. “It’s nothing like that, okay? It’s just…” He sighed. “I told him that I was looking for a summer job, so he said that he’d ask his friend to see if they’re hiring at his work.” 

There was a silence that made Jaime suspect that Sara had fallen asleep again. 

“Sara?” 

With a small snort, Sara’s voice filtered through the phone again. “Huh? What? That’s it?” 

“Well… Yeah. I mean, maybe I’m reading too much into it, but—” 

“Yes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Yes, you’re reading too much into it,” Sara said with another loud yawn. 

“I didn’t even tell you what ‘it’ is.” 

“You don’t need to. I already know you’re overthinking things.” 

Frowning, Jaime barrelled on. “But it sounded like he was going to introduce me to his friend. And even if he doesn’t actually introduce us, the fact that he’s actually okay with me meeting one of his friends…” He trailed away when he realized he actually wasn’t sure what that would mean. He’d lost track of all his confused thoughts in the storm within his mind. 

“Look, Jaime, sweetie, whatever it is, I can guarantee you that Ryan’s not thinking of things that way. Besides, as I keep telling you, if you want something other than whatever fucked-up non-verbal agreement you have right now, you have to actually _talk_ to the guy about it.” Another yawn. “Which I’m guessing you have yet to do because you don’t even know what it is you want.” 

“Go back to your nap,” Jaime muttered as he grumpily hung up. 

With a soft exhale, Jaime leaned his head on the back of the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. As much as he wanted to deny it, Sara was probably right. There wasn’t any reason he shouldn’t make the most of the situation now, though. Maybe it didn’t mean anything more than Ryan helping out his roommate, but it still felt like something more substantial. 

But Jaime didn’t get the introduction like he’d thought he would. A few days after they’d talked about it, Ryan had texted an email address to Jaime, along with the message to send his resume through and that he’d likely get the job since they were desperately short-staffed at the moment. The following Monday, Jaime went into the bookstore and met with the manager for an informal interview, and was asked to start immediately the next day. While he was a little disappointed that Ryan hadn’t actually intended to bring Jaime along to meet his friends, at least he now had someone else to talk to about his roommate, other than Sara. 

Miles, a Liberal Arts third-year seemingly without a focus in any particular thing in life except girls, didn’t seem to be too concerned with the day-to-day responsibilities of working at the bookstore, but Jaime didn’t mind this too much. At least he couldn’t say it was ever boring when Miles was there to energetically recount his escapades at the local bars and clubs. 

“So, like, there was this one chick at the bar, right? Big round ass and tits like _pa-kow_. But man, holy shit, she was just so fucking dumb, you know? She was in Kinesiology but she kept saying how it doesn’t matter if I go to the gym for three hours before a weekend bender, and that I can’t just work off the booze. Bitch be crazy, man.” 

This had been the first of many stories about Miles’ weekend hookups that Jaime had heard, and he hadn’t been sure what to make of it. After hearing some more stories over the next several days, he decided that actually it was Miles that was the crazy one, but he chose not to state this. They weren't really that close, and he didn't want to antagonize Ryan’s friend. 

After several shifts at work and an equal number of conversations with Miles, Jaime found himself wondering if Ryan, like Miles, had numerous encounters with random girls whenever their group went clubbing on the weekends. Whenever the thought came to mind, he quickly pushed the idea aside. Ryan didn’t seem to go out as often on weekends anymore anyway, and he definitely came home earlier on Fridays than before, considering they had been having sex pretty much on a daily basis for the past month or so. 

But then there came one conversation at work in which some of the things that Miles said actually started weirdly making sense to Jaime. 

They were in the back storeroom to unpack the new books that had come in, which needed to be sorted to be put out for display out front. Jaime was lifting books out of the shipping boxes when Miles had gotten a phone call and seemed to get caught up in a loud argument with the caller. 

“No, seriously, just— I mean, no, but— No, but I— Look, can you just— No, will you just listen— Just— For fuck’s sakes, can you just— No! Fucking hell, no. Just— Never fucking mind. I’m hanging up.” Miles scowled as he hung up his phone in fury. “Man. Fucking bitches, eh?” 

With a slight frown, Jaime glanced at him. “What’s up?” 

Miles sighed dramatically. “It’s this chick,” he grumbled. “I’ve been sleeping with her for a while because, well—” he made a crude gesture, “— _damn_ , she’s got a fine ass. But man, now she’s been calling me all the fucking time and shit. Being all fucking clingy and needy, know what I mean?” 

“Uh, no, I don’t know,” Jaime admitted, a little confused. “What’s wrong with her calling you?” 

Sighing deeply again, Miles slumped back into a chair and let his phone clatter onto the tabletop. “So I met this girl at the club, right? Super hot, and she seemed like she’d be up for almost anything. So I danced with her all night, and then I went home with her, and she was a crazy hot fuck and all that.” His mouth twitched, but then he shook his head roughly. “So ever since, I’ve been hooking up with her on and off, but...” He lifted the phone and waggled it, as if it had offended him somehow. “Now she keeps fucking _calling_ me and wanting to meet up and shit like we’re going out or something. So fucking annoying.” 

“Oh... Right. Yeah, that...must suck,” Jaime muttered. He turned his attention to the stacks of new books that they were supposed to price tag and then put onto the shelves at the front of the store. “So why don’t you just tell her you don't want to go out with her?” 

“Well, I did. Kind of. But then she started fucking crying and got all weepy and shit, y’know? Fuck that noise. Then again, the sex is just...” Miles exhaled loudly. “Price of a good fuck I guess, eh?” He roughly jammed his phone into his pocket. 

“Mm...” 

There was a lot more that Jaime wanted to say, but he figured it would be best to keep his mouth shut. It seemed obvious to be upfront and honest to someone about how he felt about them, but apparently it wasn’t worth giving up good sex to Miles. Then again, Jaime thought to himself, he wasn’t exactly being completely straightforward with Ryan. Most of their interactions seemed to just end in sex these days, too. 

When Jaime realized that Miles was talking again, he quickly returned his focus just in time to hear the second half of a question. “—anybody you’re seeing or shit?” 

“Me? Oh, uh... No. Not really, I guess,” Jaime mumbled. He picked up his pace, tagging the pile of books in front of him and loading them onto the cart. 

“What do you mean, ‘not really’? Just fucking around or something then?” 

Jaime flinched and swooped down to peer into the box next to him, as if checking for any books he’d missed, but in reality so that he could hide his face from Miles. “I guess you could say ‘something’...” There was no way he could tell Miles the truth, that the person he was ‘something’ with was Ryan. 

“Yeah? Well, I’m telling you now, if you don’t want her getting too attached, better make sure the message gets across, or else shut that shit down early. Even if the sex is mind-blowing,” Miles said knowingly as he shook his head. “Can always find a good fuck somewhere else, but can’t get rid of a clingy bitch that easy.” 

“Mm.” 

“Yeah, man. The way I do it is that I make sure I don’t let her kiss me. Sure as shit don’t kiss her first either, or else it gives her the wrong idea, y’know?” 

Pausing in the middle of loading a stack of books onto a cart, Jaime looked at Mile, mildly stunned. “What, never? Not even when you’re in the middle of...doing it?” he asked incredulously. To him, it seemed very unlikely, nor even possible to _not_ kiss someone in the middle of sex. Even at the thought of this, he felt his cheeks heating up a bit. 

“Of course not. Not that they don’t try, obviously, but I just make sure that I turn my head away, pretend like I’m kissing her neck or some shit instead.” Miles yawned obnoxiously and stretched his arms as he leaned back in the chair. “It’s actually easiest if you just go at her from behind because then she can’t even try usually. Plus it’s a lot easier to just really go fuckin’ _hard_ , know what I mean?” 

Miles looked up and noticed that Jaime had the last stack of books in his hand, still hovering over the cart. “Oh, are we all done? I’m gonna go for a smoke break then, if that’s cool.” 

Deep in his thoughts, Jaime didn’t seem to hear anything. 

“Uh, yo. You okay?” 

Jaime abruptly jolted back to the present and gave himself a shake. “Huh? Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine.” 

“We’re done everything here, right? I’m gonna go out for a smoke.” 

“Oh. Right, yeah.” 

Getting to his feet, Miles glanced over at Jaime with a small frown. “You sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve seen some shit all of a sudden.” 

Jaime shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Sorry. Just got a little distracted thinking of something.” He watched as Miles shrugged and left the storeroom before slowly putting down the books he’d still been holding in midair. 

It had suddenly occurred to him, as Miles had been speaking, that he couldn’t actually remember ever kissing Ryan. In fact, it was actually rare for them to even be facing each other while having sex. Usually Jaime’s back was to Ryan, no matter what position they were in, and even when he tried to turn around, Ryan would push him the other way again. His face began to flush again at the thought, but a contrasting coldness jabbed at his chest. Maybe his memory was just patchy. There must have been some time at least where they had kissed, and he’d just forgotten about it in the heat of the moment. 

Even as he brought himself out of his thoughts and began pushing the cart out of the storeroom, Jaime couldn’t shake the strange notion that for once, Miles had spoken a stark truth. It unnerved him. 

For the next few hours, Jaime clumsily went about his work, fighting with the thoughts in his head that couldn’t seem to push away. It was only when he was heading home that he was able to think of something else. 

After stepping out of the metro station, he caught a glimpse of Ryan’s back through the throng of people around him. The tingling feeling at the tips of his fingers emanated all the way up to his head, and his mouth couldn’t help but curve up at the corners. “Hey, Ry—” he began to call out as he tried to pick his way faster through the crowd to catch up, but his voice caught in his throat when he finally got a clearer look ahead of him. 

Next to Ryan’s tousled dark hair, was the same long red hair as his own. For a brief moment, the crowds parted just enough to reveal the other redhead tightly grasping onto Ryan's arm. 

A block of ice formed around Jaime’s heart, completely freezing over the tingling sensations. The rest of his body felt as if a tight, invisible rope had started constricting him, imprisoning him on the spot. 

Blinking a few times, he looked toward where Ryan had been, but no longer saw him amongst the swarm of people. Had he just been seeing things? The tightening sensation continued for a moment, before Sara's voice from months ago suddenly popped into his mind. 

‘ _It’s a big city. Tons of people probably look like each other._ ’ 

Maybe she was right. Sara was usually right, although Jaime wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that he thought so. Maybe he was just seeing things after all, and it was just somebody who looked like Ryan. 

He continued walking home, but for some reason, the ice in his chest didn’t thaw. 

… 

There was no sign of his roommate when Jaime finally got back to his apartment. Part of him was disappointed, but another part was grateful for once; he wanted to sort out the jumble of thoughts that had been swirling around in his head before he actually faced Ryan again. There was something strange about what had happened earlier that day that didn’t sit quite right, but even after pondering the entire way back home, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly was bothering him. 

Still engrossed in his thoughts, Jaime went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. But even as he peered inside, his eyes didn’t register anything inside, and he didn’t even feel particularly hungry. He opened and closed the fridge absentmindedly a few more times before he finally reached in for a beer. 

Taking a long swig as soon as he opened the bottle, he wandered over to the sofa. In his state of distraction, he bumped into the arm of the sofa and spilled a bit of beer out of the corner of his mouth with a small squawk of surprise. “Stupid…” he muttered to himself as he grabbed a tissue and wiped himself up before flopping down on the sofa. His hand grasped the remote, but his finger only hovered on the power button without pressing it. 

Blankly staring at the dark screen, Jaime froze as he pictured once again that man he’d seen earlier. Had that actually been Ryan, or was it just a look-alike? And if it had been Ryan, who was the redhead with him? It was this bizarre experience that was the main cause of his discomfort, Jaime decided. Especially considering what Ryan had said the first time they’d met, what were the odds that there was someone he knew that looked similar to Jaime? 

‘ _You don’t have a sister, do you? You look a lot like someone I know._ ’

The memory of the expression on Ryan’s face when he’d asked that question the day they moved into the apartment flooded back into Jaime’s mind. Maybe that had been the person Jaime had seen with Ryan earlier. But if that was the case, who was she? The way she’d been grasping Ryan’s arm implied they were pretty familiar with each other. So what did that mean? 

Jaime knocked back the rest of the beer in an attempt to clear the churning thoughts from his mind, but it only seemed to get worse the more he tried to make sense of things. He got up and strode to the kitchen to toss out the empty bottle and reached for the fridge when he heard the front door open and jumped. 

“H-hi—hey,” Jaime stammered as Ryan stepped into the apartment and tossed his keys onto the table. 

“Hey.” 

Jaime opened his mouth to speak again, but he managed to stop himself before he said something stupid that he would regret immediately. Instead, he straightened up, closed the fridge door, and then turned casually—or so he hoped it looked that way—to lean against the counter while watching Ryan get a glass of water and down it in three gulps. 

A silence hung between them. Ryan poured some more water into his glass and drank, this time a little slower than before. Jaime watched him with keen eyes the entire time. It felt like there was an intense aura of irritation radiating off Ryan, and Jaime wasn’t sure whether it would be safe to attempt initiating conversation. 

Just as Jaime decided it would be best to leave Ryan alone and had pushed off from the counter to walk away, Ryan turned and looked over at him. Ryan’s eyebrows were slightly more furrowed than usual above impenetrable green eyes. When he noticed this, Jaime couldn’t help but stop short and freeze. 

The silence continued, although this time Jaime felt distinctly more awkward than before. He shifted slowly and hesitantly, as though he was facing a wild bear and trying not to attract its attention to himself. Ryan’s eyes didn’t leave Jaime’s face the entire time. This only made Jaime’s face heat up as he finally averted his own gaze to anywhere but those eyes that were boring holes into him. 

“So, um… Get up to anything today?” Jaime asked. He put on his best nonchalant voice that he could muster, even though he was actually dying to ask if that had actually been Ryan he’d seen earlier. 

Ryan paused for several lengthy moments. Finally, he shrugged and mumbled, “Nah. Just ran into an acquaintance on the way back.” 

Jaime’s ears perked at this statement and he turned to face Ryan fully again. “Oh. An old friend or something?” He tried to keep the casual tone in his voice but his trepidation at the answer was making it difficult to maintain a calm face. 

“No,” Ryan said a little too curtly. “Just someone I used to know.” 

“Oh?” Frowning at the response, Jaime took another step forward. “Was it awkward or something?” 

Shrugging again, Ryan placed his empty glass into the sink. He hesitated for a second there before turning to face Jaime. With those green eyes locked on him so intensely, Jaime felt himself freeze again. For several moments, they remained staring silently at each other. 

Eventually, Jaime cleared his throat and gave himself a small shake to rid himself of the nerves that kept him rooted to the spot. “Um, by the way, Miles said he expects you to go clubbing with them on Friday. He said, ‘No questions, no excuses.’” 

Ryan seemed unfazed by this statement, nor did he show any inclination one way or the other as to whether he actually wanted to go out on Friday with his friends or not. 

Jaime took this as a sign and mustered up the remains of his courage to take another step to close the gap between them. Reaching his hands out, Jaime placed one timidly on Ryan’s chest. A finger from his other hand hesitantly moved over the front of Ryan’s jeans. “Hey… Do you want to...you know…” He licked his lips nervously. The sound of his rapid heartbeat pulsed all the way up to his head. “Want to...go to my room?” 

Ryan didn’t move or speak. His eyes contemplated Jaime’s lower hand, but his expression was otherwise inscrutable. 

Jaime frowned slightly at the hesitation. “Um… Sorry. I… Never mind,” he whispered. He quickly looked away and dropped his hands to his sides, feeling his face flush hotly. A hand slipped back up to twirl a strand of hair between his fingers. Maybe he had just misread the signs and wrongly presumed things when Ryan wasn’t actually in the mood at the moment. But Jaime had been so sure he’d seen that familiar glint in Ryan’s eyes, that focused intensity in the green depths that usually meant one thing. 

Turning away in embarrassment, Jaime debated if he should go into his room alone and pretend nothing had happened—that usually seemed to be the way things went anytime there was an uncomfortable situation with Ryan anyway—or throw caution to the wind and continue his advances. 

But before he could decide what to do, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and tug him toward his bedroom. Jaime’s face was still flushed pink when the door closed behind them and Ryan pushed him down onto the bed. 

Within seconds, their clothes were discarded on the floor. Then within the next several minutes, with bodies pressed tightly together, they were moving in synchronized rhythm. Ryan pushed in, Jaime gasped softly and grasped the sheets; Ryan pulled away, Jaime tightened to draw him in again. 

As their motions sped up, it became more difficult for Jaime to keep his voice low. He buried his face into the pillow to muffle himself, but Ryan’s fingers snaked through his hair and pulled him up again. Jaime let out a gentle yelp of pain at his hair being yanked so roughly, but Ryan’s grasp didn’t loosen. With a sharp breath, he shifted in an attempt to turn around to face Ryan. He had managed to roll onto his side when a hand on his shoulder pushed him back down so that his cheek was against the pillow again. 

Ryan’s fingers remained tightly entwined in the long locks of hair as his thrusting motions sped up, until he eventually shuddered and let go. He slowly pulled away, rolled the condom off his softening dick, tied it, and tossed it into the trash bin. As he lay down on the bed with his chest and stomach pressed to Jaime’s back, Ryan reached his hand toward Jaime’s hair, fingers tangling themselves gently in the red locks once more. 

Jaime softly groaned in the frustration of being kept from his own release. It wasn’t the first time, but it had been happening more frequently, or so it felt like. He reached down to finish himself off, the whole time focusing on the sensation of Ryan’s heated body behind him. 

A few moments passed while he caught his breath, and then he slowly stood to go to the bathroom to clean himself up. His head tugged back briefly as he got up, and Ryan’s fingers were forced to release the strands of hair they’d been grasping. 

By the time Jaime returned to the bed, Ryan had already fallen fast asleep, facing away from him. Looking down at him, Jaime listened to the rhythmic breathing and idly brushed his fingers through the knots that had been inadvertently made in his hair. 

His thoughts drifted back to the conversation that he’d had with Miles. Although he didn’t want to believe it, he was pretty sure now that he hadn’t ever kissed Ryan. They certainly hadn’t tonight, and even when Jaime had tried to turn around, Ryan had kept them from facing each other. It was an unsettling thought, but Jaime didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe he would just talk to Ryan about it in the morning. At least Sara would be happy they talked, even if nothing actually came out of it. 

Once most of the tangles were gone from his hair, Jaime finally slid into the bed next to Ryan. He pulled up the covers and reached out to fleetingly brush his fingers down Ryan’s back before resting his hand on the pillow instead. He drifted into an uneasy sleep soon after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last of the completed chapters, and now I need to hurry my ass to finish the rest of this story. :D Especially because the more I re-read it, the more I get tempted to just trash the whole thing and start over lol. So apologies if updates from here on out take longer than a week but I swear I'm getting around to it.
> 
> P.S. I have a bunch of sketches of these guys stashed away, but I have no idea where to upload them to now that Tumblr is nerfed and Photobucket seems to have gone downhill. Anyway, if you'd be interested to see some shitty, sappy, and naughty sketches of Jaime and Ryan, leave a comment or DM me and I'll figure something out. Might add them as an extra at the end. :)


	8. Like what normal people do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for how long it took to update this. D:
> 
> A lot of personal things came up at the end of last year and I couldn't get around to writing until now. But this chapter is an extra long one, so hopefully it serves as penance for the long lack of updates.

For several days after, Jaime was so distracted by his thoughts that it felt like he was just floating through the hours. Before he knew it, it was already his day off from working at the bookstore, and he found himself at a loss for what to do without the manual labour of reorganising books on shelves or the weirdly entertaining—and occasionally disturbing if not rambling—stories that Miles had an adequate supply of. 

In an attempt to subdue the anxiety that was gnawing at him, Jaime tried the menial task of cleaning his room. This seemed to help for a while, but eventually he realised that keeping his hands busy only left more room for his overactive brain to fill itself with even more nonsensical ideas. He powered through anyway, continuing on until he eventually started cleaning the living room. Only when he got to the sofa did he finally stop. 

Staring down at the cushions, a memory barrelled into his mind—the memory of the time that he had been pressed down upon them with his hands tied behind his back, Ryan’s hands roving all over his body, their sweat-dampened skin gliding and smacking together, the way that those green eyes had pierced him, how he hadn’t been able to see that look of pleasure on Ryan’s face ever since— 

Blood rushed to Jaime’s head and he swayed on the spot from the sudden pounding in his ears. He stumbled back to his bedroom after throwing the cleaning supplies back into the storage closet and collapsed onto his bed. 

Eventually, after tossing around for almost half an hour of being unable to settle his thoughts, he decided what to do. Exhaling, Jaime leaned over to pick up his phone from the nightstand and dialed Sara’s number. 

“Unusual of you to call me first on a Friday,” Sara’s voice chirped as soon as the dial tone stopped. “Don’t tell me you actually want to go to the bar? You realize I’m still at home and not on campus, right?” 

“If I ever called you first to go to the bar, you’d know a body snatcher took over and is impersonating me,” Jaime pointed out. “Anyway, that’s not why I called. I just… I’ve just had some things on my mind and I don’t know what to make of it all. I figure you’d have some wisdom to impart, like you always do.” 

He could practically hear Sara perk up. 

“Oh? A new development with your fuck-buddy roommate?” 

Jaime chewed his lip for a moment. “Well… Not exactly. I mean, nothing exactly _happened_ with him, but…” Careful phrasing was going to be key to making sure Sara didn’t just tell him he was overthinking. 

“So you’ve been overthinking about nothing, as per usual,” Sara stated flatly. 

With a wince, Jaime rubbed his forehead. How the hell did she get there before he could even say anything? “No. I mean, maybe. But it’s not like my usual overthinking. At least, I don’t think.” 

“Uh-huh. And what exactly is unusual about it?” 

“Well… It’s just that… Miles said something a bit weird at work a few days ago, and it kind of got me thinking. I mean, not that I approved of it, but it made me wonder if maybe…” Jaime trailed away, unsure of how to articulate what had been bothering him for the past few days. 

“And what exactly did he say?” Sara prompted impatiently when Jaime didn’t say anything for a while. 

Hesitating, Jaime tried to formulate his sentences so that they didn’t sound outright stupid. “So you know how I told you he seems to get around a lot? Miles, that is. Goes clubbing to pick up girls, sleep with them once or twice, then move onto the next.” He took a breath. “And I was just thinking… Ryan goes with him, right? What if he...picks up random girls to have one-night stands with too? And on top of that—” the words spilled out now that he had his train of thought going, “—Miles said something about never kissing the girls he sleeps with. I mean… That can’t be for real, can it?” 

Sara’s voice had a hint of exasperation. “I can’t believe you’d actually take anything that asshole says seriously, Jai-jai. He sounds like he’s just a misogynistic fuckboy who better hope he doesn’t meet me because I’d castrate him on sight.” 

Wincing at the thought, Jaime argued, “It’s not that I’m taking him seriously. It’s just that… Well...” He chewed his bottom lip. “I mean, he’s friends with Ryan. They must talk about...that kind of stuff with each other.” 

“What, so you think Ryan actually takes advice from that douchebag?” 

“I guess… Maybe? He might, right?” 

There was a soft noise, something like a scoff, from the other end. “Sure, but considering _you_ can’t even talk with Ryan, what makes you think those two would talk about anything more substantial than the bra cup sizes of the different girls that Miles douche-rocket has banged?” 

Jaime furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, contrary to what you think, I _can_ have meaningful conversations with Ryan, thanks,” he muttered. He felt the need to stand up for himself and his roommate, even though he didn’t quite fully believe the words even as he spoke them. “It’s...just that we never seem to have the time to.” 

“So if you can’t find the time to talk, why don’t you _make_ the time?” Sara suggested. Even though he couldn’t see her face, Jaime could tell she had an annoyed expression on her face. 

“And how do I do that?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Maybe like, chill out together, have a beer or some shit, and ask him to talk. You know, like what _normal_ people do.” 

Jaime sighed. “I think you and I both know that I’m not exactly normal,” he muttered, twisting his hair in his fingers. “What if that scares him off even more?” 

“Oh my god, Jaime.” Sara’s voice was tinged with a very clear tone of irritation now. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re roommates. _Roommates_. It’s perfectly normal for _roommates_ to chill out in your _shared_ living space. And if that scares him off, then, well…” She sighed. When she spoke again, her voice was a little gentler. “That’d be your answer then, wouldn’t it?” 

An uneasy tremor ran down Jaime’s arms and legs. 

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.” 

“I’m always right.” 

“Mm. And what about...you know...the other thing that Miles said? About...not kissing the girls he sleeps with?” 

“Sadly, my sweet little lamb, you’re going to have to figure that one out for yourself because I sure as shit don’t know what the hell goes on between you two when you fuck. Just try to kiss him or some shit and see how he reacts.” Sara exhaled softly. “Besides, I can’t tell you what to do about every little thing that happens in this...whatever this fucked-up relationship you have with him.” 

“Yeah, I guess not.” 

When Sara eventually hung up to take a ‘long overdue’ nap, she sternly instructed Jaime to ‘get his ass out of the goddamn apartment’ to clear his head of his ‘incessant overthinking’. So finally, Jaime left the apartment and began meandering thoughtlessly in a random direction. It was an ideal summer day, and he realised that it really had been a long time since he’d spent time outside without the intent of going to classes or to the bookstore. As he wandered slowly, he took in the sights and sounds of the city and its people. Large groups of tourists trailed after their guides like curious herds of sheep, stressed-out people in business suits rushed by in an attempt to quickly get to their destinations without sweating through their starchy outfits, and swathes of kids on summer vacation strode around, laughing and shouting at each other. 

Turning a corner, Jaime found himself approaching a small park close to the metro station. He’d passed by this park so many times, but he never had a chance to fully enjoy it, so he began walking over to the benches lining the row of odd statues. A small crowd of tourists were swarming around them, taking hurried photos and selfies of each other, some of them imitating the poses of the statues themselves. Jaime smiled to himself as he watched the group leader call to them and like a band of pigeons suddenly taking flight, they were gone and the park was left with only a handful of people. 

As he approached the center of the park, Jaime recognised a head of neatly-styled black hair by the benches encircling the area. His face brightened and he began to call out. “Hey, Ry—” But he stopped short when he realized that there was someone else with Ryan. Even though Jaime had never seen the woman before, something about her was extremely familiar. 

Her hair was the exact colour and length as his own. 

As his senses gradually returned after the initial astonishment, Jaime became acutely aware that he was standing very awkwardly in the middle of the park, while Ryan and the unknown woman sat a short distance away. The little control he had of his limbs fled him as he watched the woman throw her head back in laughter and touch Ryan’s arm. The next moment, as the woman leaned her head in toward Ryan’s, Jaime regained some form of agency over his legs and tried to walk away, but his feet betrayed him and tripped over each other. He stumbled backward and managed to throw out a hand to brace his fall before landing flat on his ass with a small yelp. 

“Are you okay?” 

A voice drifted over to Jaime’s ears, which were already turning red from embarrassment. He got to his feet as quickly as his shaky legs would let him and dusted himself off, wishing for nothing more than to sink into the very ground he’d been sitting on seconds ago. When he took a breath and raised his head, he saw two faces peering at him. 

“S-s-sorry. I’m fine. Just..clumsy, I guess,” he blurted out. He caught Ryan’s gaze, and despite his conscience telling him not to say anything, he found himself mumbling, “Hey, Ryan.” 

The woman’s eyes darted to Jaime’s hair in mild surprise, but she hid it well and seemed to recover quickly. She gave him a smile. “No need to apologize. Just glad you’re okay,” she said in a friendly tone. Glancing at Ryan before looking at Jaime again, she asked, “Are you guys friends?” 

“Roommates,” Ryan put in promptly. 

“Oh, cool. What a coincidence, bumping into you here,” the woman said, her incandescent smile still plastered to her face. “Nice to meet you. I’m Julia.” 

The rational part of his brain told him to just run and not look back, but Jaime took a step forward to shake Julia’s extended hand and introduced himself as well. “I’m Jaime. Nice to meet you.” 

“How long have you guys been roommates?” Julia asked as her hand dropped back to her side, and then slid over to grasp Ryan’s. 

Jaime’s eyes caught this subtle movement without missing a beat. He felt a sudden, sharp strain across his chest. 

“Um, almost six months now, I think?” Jaime mumbled, glancing over at Ryan as if to ask for confirmation. Ryan didn’t react and merely stared at a spot in the distance over Jaime’s shoulder. 

The three of them stood still, glancing at each other expectantly for several seconds. Jaime could feel the still eyes of the surrounding statues staring into his deeply discomforted soul as he tried to come up with an escape route. 

“Um—” 

“We should get going,” Ryan murmured as he stood and turned to lead Julia away, his hand grasping her upper arm tightly to steer her out of the park. Julia glanced back apologetically at Jaime as they went. 

Jaime stood immobile for a moment, staring silently at their retreating backs. A strange sensation was seeping down his spine. He had seen that woman before. She must be the same one that Ryan was with before, when Jaime had thought he had been seeing things. 

What the hell was going on? Who was this Julia? Why was Ryan acting so weird about this? Was she...? 

But that couldn’t be possible. 

... 

The moment that Jaime got home, he fished out his phone from his pocket and called Sara. He definitely hadn’t been seeing things this time around. 

“Jai-jai, what the fuck, I told you I’m napping—” 

Before Sara could whine any further, Jaime began rambling immediately after he heard her pick up. “I wasn’t imagining things. I actually did see him this time, and he was with that woman again,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips as if a dam had burst within his mouth. 

“Uhh… What? The fuck are you talking about?” Sara sounded perplexed by the barrage of words directed at her. “Take a breath and rewind a bit. Who exactly did you see with a woman?” 

“Ryan. I saw him. In the park just outside the metro station,” Jaime said, this time going a little slower, even though his tongue still felt like it was going to jump right out of his mouth from excitement. 

“Uhh, sure, okay. You make it sound like seeing your roommate out in the wild is like winning the lottery or some shit,” Sara said. She was clearly unamused by the abrupt phone call about something so mundane having disrupted her nap. 

Jaime shook his head before realizing she wouldn’t be able to see him. “No, that’s not the weird thing. Remember I told you about that time I thought I saw him with someone?” he tried to explain, this time having gotten control over his voice. 

“Yeah, I remember. You told me you got your panties in a twist because you saw a guy somewhere in the middle of downtown that looked like him from the back. And you even agreed that it could have been anybody. So maybe it was the same this time. Hell, it could have been the same rando—” 

“No, this time I’m absolutely sure it was Ryan. We talked. And it was the same girl I saw him with back then,” Jaime insisted. “She had the same hair.” 

Sara snorted. “And how the hell would you know that? You can’t even tell when _I_ get _my_ hair done.” 

“Because…” Jaime uneasily swallowed a small lump in his throat. “It was the exact same as mine.” 

“Are you _sure_?” Sara asked skeptically. “I really doubt her hair is _exactly_ the same as yours, Red.” 

“Maybe not exactly the same, but it was pretty damn similar,” Jaime said firmly. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. Do you think…? I mean, they were really close...” 

With a loud snort, Sara fell into another deep silence of contemplation. When she spoke again, her voice crackled sharply over the phone line. “I’m pretty close to _you_ when we’re out somewhere. How was that any different? I mean, other than the fact that I stick close to you to protect your innocence and purity because you’re a naïve little lamb.” 

Jaime hesitated. “It just...felt different. She was leaning in toward him and had her hand on his arm…” He trailed away and had to take a breath to steady himself before continuing. “I couldn’t really see because of the angle but they leaned in toward each other at one point...like they were about to kiss.” 

Sara’s tone turned sympathetic. “Jaime, sweetie, I really hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure you already know what that was all about.” 

Staring down at his feet, Jaime fell quiet. 

“Look, you guys have been fucking around for what, like, six months now?” Sara sighed loudly in exasperation. “You never told him you wanted to be more than just fuck-buddies, did you?” 

Jaime shook his head, his face flushing in shame, though he realised only a second later that Sara wasn’t able to see him. Her sixth sense seemed to have picked up on this gesture regardless. 

“Then you can’t really get that upset that he’s gotten himself a girlfriend, can you?” 

“No, but—” 

“And even in the miniscule off-chance that they’re not actually going out, it’s not like you told him you wanted to be _monogamous_ fuck-buddies.” 

Lifting his head, Jaime gave a confused frown at his cactus plant on the window, as if it was actually Sara. “Is that really a thing?” He paused. “Or, um, the other thing. Non-monogamous fuck-buddies.” 

There was another long, drawn-out sigh. “Of course it fucking is. Jesus tap-dancing Christ,” she mumbled. “You think everything is so black-and-white when it comes to relationships? Seriously, Jai-jai, I knew you’re naïve, but I didn’t think you’d actually be stupid.” 

“Don’t have to be so harsh,” Jaime muttered, feeling a little put-off. “I just...didn’t think that would be something Ryan might actually want to do, considering…” 

“Considering you never talked about what you actually expected out of your so-called ‘relationship’?” 

Jaime had no response. 

... 

Jaime was anxious to go back to work at the bookstore, but it wasn’t because he was any more excited about the actual work than usual. He knew that Miles would be working today too, and he had a lot of questions to ask. 

When he had finally found Miles in the back room (shockingly unpacking some boxes for once), Jaime turned toward him, but then stopped at the last second. He still wasn’t completely at ease around Miles yet, and besides, even if they were close, he didn’t feel comfortable bombarding someone with questions before greeting them. Figuring he should at least say hi first, Jaime licked his lips and strode forward into the room toward the table in the middle. 

“Hey, Miles.” 

“Yo. How’s it goin’.” 

Jaime shrugged nonchalantly. “About the same as usual. How about you?” 

Miles also shrugged in return. “Yeah. ‘Bout the same, too.” 

Jaime reached over to grab a stack of books to start organizing them. They worked in silence for a while, until they eventually finished with the stacks on the table and Miles slipped his phone out of his pocket. As Jaime started working on unpacking a new shipment box, he finally built up the nerve to ask what he had been dying to ask since he’d gotten to the bookstore. 

“Hey, Miles…” Jaime began. He looked toward his coworker, who was now leaning idly against a shelf and swiping on his phone. 

“Huh.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“What?” 

Jaime hesitated. “It’s about...Ryan.” Somehow it felt even more difficult now that he’d started talking. “Um... Do you know anything about his…his ex-girlfriend?” 

“What about her?” 

“Um...” A small frown crossed Jaime’s lips even as he spoke. “Did you know her very well?” 

Miles finally lifted his head up to look at Jaime. “Not really. I mean, she hung out with our group a bunch of times and shit, but it’s not like we were tight or anything,” he replied with a shrug. “Why?” 

“Do you know why they…why she and Ryan...you know...broke up?” 

By then, Miles’ attention was already back to his phone but he still answered, “Some bullshit about her wanting to go travel and write a blog or some stupid shit. Who the fuck knows. Bitch was already pretty crazy and I told him that, but of fucking course he didn’t listen. And look what happened.” He gave a small snort of disapproval. “Fucking idiot. Put the pussy on a pedestal and got burned, didn’t he?” 

Looking down at the pile of books he’d been stacking, unstacking, and then stacking again without purpose, Jaime frowned more deeply. “So… He was pretty upset about it, you think?” he asked. 

“Well, yeah. He caught feelings for her like a dumbass. Had to get him out to the clubs every week so he could find some new pussy to get over that bitch, but he never did actually get any, from what I could tell,” Miles ranted rapidly, as though the mere memory pissed him off. 

Jaime’s ears perked up at this. “Wait, so he never actually slept with anybody whenever you guys went to the club?” 

“Nah, he couldn’t make a pull if a chick was grinding herself into his lap,” Miles replied with another snort of derision. 

There was a swell of relief in Jaime’s chest. “Oh. Right. Um, so his ex…” he began again, changing the topic back to what he’d originally wanted to know more about. “If he was so upset about it… If she came back, do you think… I mean, hypothetically speaking, if she came back from travelling… Do you think they’d…” Unable to form the question around his tongue, Jaime trailed away. 

By then, Miles was clearly preoccupied by his phone again, as he was furiously swiping right again, with an occasional swipe to the left. Deciding that there was not much more that he’d be able to get out of him at this point, Jaime let out a low sigh and lifted the stack of books he’d been rough-handling onto the trolley to take out to the front of the store. 

... 

A sudden knock at the door made Jaime jump up abruptly, almost knocking over a glass of water onto his laptop. Figuring it was probably just his imagination, he shook his head and turned back to his paper. But not even a minute later, the knock came again, this time more insistently. 

With a small, irritated sigh, he got to his feet and strode out of his bedroom and toward the front door. When he opened it, Jaime thought for a confused second that he was looking at his reflection. He gaped in bewilderment at the red-haired woman staring back at him with an equally bemused expression. 

“Hi. It’s Jaime, right?” she said with a small smile. 

“Um, yeah. Hi.” In his surprise, Jaime realized his tone probably came across more terse than he’d meant for it to. He didn’t actually know this woman after all, and he had no reason to be rude to her. 

They stood awkwardly for a few more wordless seconds. “Is Ryan here?” Julia finally asked. 

“Oh. Oh, um, no, sorry. He’s not home yet...” Jaime trailed away and awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Um... Do you want to come in and wait for him?” 

“I can just come back later. I don’t want to bother you.” 

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind.” Jaime opened the door a little wider to let Julia inside. He paused before politely adding, “Want anything to drink?” 

Julia stepped into the apartment and walked over to the table in the living room, sliding her handbag off her shoulder as she went. “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks. Some tea if you have it, please.” 

As Julia settled herself at the table, Jaime went to pull out a box of tea bags from the kitchen cupboard after putting the kettle on to boil. He gave Julia a furtive sidelong glance as he dropped two bags of Earl Grey into mugs. While Julia seemed nice enough, he felt wary about her. He still wasn’t sure what her relationship was to Ryan, yet he knew it would be awkward to ask. He figured there’d have to be some way he could glean information from her, but he wasn’t very good at being subtle. He’d have to try his best anyway and act casual about it. 

“Did you want any milk or sugar?” Jaime asked once the water had boiled and he poured some into the mugs. 

“No, that’s fine, thanks. I know it’s a little weird, but I drink my tea just black,” Julia said with a tinkling laugh. 

“Really?” As the tea steeped, Jaime looked over at her with a small smile. “I guess I’m weird too because I’m the same.” 

“Great minds think alike, huh? Or rather, drink alike.” 

After removing the tea bags and tossing them out, Jaime brought the mugs over to the table and slid one over to Julia. “Cheers to fellow black tea drinkers,” he said, lifting his mug to Julia before taking a slow sip. “So are you in Ryan’s class or something?” 

“No, I graduated a while ago.” 

“Oh, really? What do you do now then?” 

“I’m a freelance writer. Usually I do articles for travel magazines like _Wanderlust_ , but sometimes I manage to get published in indie lifestyle mags too,” Julia said with a proud smile. “I keep my own personal blog on the side but I haven’t really worked on it much lately.” 

Jaime gazed at her in awed admiration. “Wow. That’s really cool.” He watched her take a sip of her tea, trying his hardest not to bombard her with all of the questions about her job that were now rushing through his head. “How’d you get to become a magazine writer?” he settled on asking first, since it seemed like the most harmless. 

“Mostly luck, actually,” Julia laughed, “I majored in Lit because I wanted to write YA novels, but then I decided to go travelling for a few months after graduating. You know, see the world, learn new cultures, get inspired, that sort of thing. I started writing a blog while I was in Europe, and submitted some pieces to a bunch of different magazines. Didn’t hear anything back, obviously. But then I happened to meet a really nice guy who actually writes for _Wanderlust_ at some hostel bar one night, and he offered to put in a good word for me with the editor.” She shrugged and laughed again. “Pretty crazy, right?” 

For a stunned moment, Jaime just gawked at Julia. “Wow, yeah. Sounds like something straight out of a fairytale,” he said at last. 

“Yeah, sometimes I find it hard to believe, myself. It’s almost like living someone else’s perfect life.” With a kind smile, Julia lowered her mug. “What about you? What are you studying?” 

“Me? Oh... I actually was thinking of majoring in Lit, too,” Jaime replied after a second’s hesitation. “I’ve always wanted to get an article published in _Wanderlust_ , to be honest, so... It’s really cool hearing how you got into it.” He gave a small, sheepish smile. “I could only dream of something like that happening to me.” 

“Hey, you never know. I never would have thought that kind of thing could actually happen to me either, but the universe works in strange ways.” 

An awkward silence fell between them, with Julia sipping her tea while Jaime tried to gather the courage to ask the question that he desperately wanted to know the answer to. 

“So... If you’re not from Ryan’s class, how do you know each other?” Jaime finally managed to ask tentatively. Deep in his gut, he knew the answer, but he just had to know for sure. 

“We used to live down the hall from each other in the dorms,” Julia explained, “But we weren’t in the same year or the same faculty or anything. We met through a mutual friend of ours at a party.” A wistful smile spread across her face as she seemed to drift into nostalgic memories. “I kind of miss those dorm days. Can’t believe it’s been almost a year since I graduated already. It feels like such a long time ago.” 

Jaime stiffened. He suddenly felt a chill creep down his spine. He had heard that story before, many months ago, on a Friday night while watching some TV show he didn’t remember. 

“You know, it’s kind of funny. I told him to go into Psych because he can be such an emotionless robot. I was hoping he’d maybe learn how to be a bit more human if he learned how humans think, but...” She sighed softly. “Doesn’t seem like he’s changed all that much while I was away. Maybe you can’t teach a robot how to feel, after all.” Shaking her head, she took a sip of tea. 

As confirmation of the truth slowly sank in, the chill in Jaime’s spine spread to his chest and turned to ice. 

The sound of keys jingling made them both look up as Ryan came in through the front door. He took a few steps in but stopped short and froze with his duffel bag halfway off his shoulder to stare at the two redheads sitting at the table. His eyes flicked from Julia, to Jaime, and then settled back on Julia. “What the hell are you doing here?” he muttered. 

“Jaime let me in,” Julia answered matter-of-factly. 

“Not what I mean,” Ryan said. His eyebrows were furrowed, though not like Jaime had seen them before. “What are you doing _here_?” 

Looking somewhat defiant, Julia got to her feet. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said. 

“About what?” 

Julia gave a sidelong glance at Jaime before turning her attention back to Ryan. “I’d rather talk in private, if that’s okay with you.” She took a step toward Ryan’s bedroom door expectantly after picking up her handbag from the floor. 

Ryan seemed to hesitate, but dumped his duffel bag carelessly to the floor and let out a breath. “Fine. Let’s go outside.” He opened the front door again and stepped halfway outside, waiting for Julia to follow. 

When Julia didn’t move, Jaime shifted uncomfortably. He was on the verge of offering to leave the apartment to give them space and avoid the awkward stand-off, but before he could, Ryan strode forward to grasp Julia’s arm and yanked her out into the hallway. 

The door closed with a firm thunk, and Jaime remained staring at it. A tumultuous mixture of anxiety and concern flooded him, even though he tried not to think too much about what they were discussing at that moment. He reminded himself that it was none of his business, even though a small part of him wanted to follow them and make sure that nothing would reignite between the ex-lovers. 

… 

Over an hour later, Ryan returned alone to the apartment with no sign of Julia with him. Jaime looked up from the sofa and lowered his phone after swiftly deleting the unsent message he’d spent the better part of the last half hour typing out. 

“Hi—hey.” It took all of Jaime’s strength to keep from hitting himself for his sudden inability to speak once more. 

Ryan didn’t respond, but nodded as he headed to the fridge. He opened it and reached in for a beer, promptly opening the bottle and taking a long swig from it. 

“I… Can I ask you something?” Jaime asked. He regretted saying anything the moment the words left his mouth. 

“What?” 

“It’s…about Julia…” 

“What about her?” 

The words seemed to jump back down Jaime’s throat, but he took a breath and said, “She’s…your ex, isn't she?” 

Ryan threw an unreadable look at Jaime before walking toward the sofa to sit down. “Yeah. She came back from Europe early.” 

Shifting his weight uneasily, Jaime began, “So are you thinking of… I mean, you said the two of you broke up because she wanted to go travelling, but now that she’s back… Are you going to…?” Unable to finish the question, he swallowed the remaining words. 

There was an extended pause, during which Ryan seemed to be carefully contemplating things. “No. She dumped me. Not exactly like we can pick up where we left off just because she’s back.” 

Even though Jaime knew he should feel relieved, he didn’t. There was something off about the way that Ryan had replied, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Besides, he still wasn’t even sure what their relationship _was_ at this point, so he had no right to be jealous. 

“Um… Are you going out tonight?” Jaime asked in an attempt to change the subject to something more harmless. It was Friday, after all. 

“Nah. Most of my buddies went back home for the summer and Miles is out with his girlfriend.” 

Jaime was momentarily amused by the fact that Miles must have finally given in to the advances of that girl who apparently called too often, despite all the boasting about only being interested in the sex. He dropped his gaze and twirled a lock of hair through his fingers. He was sure he didn’t have any reason to feel so anxious, yet he couldn’t suppress the twinge in his chest. 

Jaime gave a small jump in surprise and snapped his head up. Ryan had reached over and wrapped his fingers around Jaime’s, which still were entangled in a lock of red hair. 

“Why are you nervous?” Ryan asked lowly. 

“Huh?” Blinking, Jaime tried to meet Ryan’s gaze, but found himself unable to keep his eyes fixed on those green ones. “W-why do you think I’m nervous?” 

“You play with your hair whenever you’re nervous.” 

“Oh. Do I?” Jaime quickly dropped his hand from his hair, as if to refute Ryan’s statement, but he knew that they both knew that it was true. His fingers tried to slip away from Ryan’s as he lowered them, but they were kept in place by Ryan’s tightened grasp. 

“Yeah. You do.” Ryan pulled Jaime along the sofa toward him until his chin nearly brushed the top of Jaime’s head, and then he lowered his head to softly nuzzle red hair. 

“I’m not nervous,” Jaime lied. 

“Sure.” 

Ryan’s hands slid up under Jaime’s shirt and caressed the skin of his back and waist. 

There was only a second of hesitation from Jaime before he mimicked Ryan’s actions. He tilted his head up and stretched his neck in an attempt to bring their lips closer, but before they made contact, he felt a hand push him by the shoulder so that he fell back onto the sofa. 

When his clothes were pulled off, Jaime began turning onto his side out of habit, but to his surprise, Ryan held him down with one hand on Jaime’s hip and the other snaking through his hair. With Ryan’s heavy breath against the side of his neck, Jaime shuddered in increasing desire. 

Jaime’s legs were lifted so that the backs of his knees were hooked around Ryan’s arms. His face heated up as he realized suddenly that he had never been exposed like this before. He glanced down between his legs to see Ryan undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, and swallowed nervously. For a split second, their eyes met as he watched Ryan lick his fingers. 

Before he could think of something to say, Jaime felt a finger at his ass and inhaled sharply. Leaning his head back against the cushion, he focused on keeping his breath steady. The second finger went in shortly, and then the third. Jaime squirmed and bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a moan. He exhaled a breath that he had unknowingly been holding when Ryan’s fingers withdrew, but it wasn’t long before he felt the tip of Ryan’s hardened cock nudging against his hole instead. 

Thoughts of the only other time they had fucked on the sofa came to Jaime’s mind. It had been the first time they’d ever had sex, that time that Ryan had come back from the club completely drunk. But this time was different. Jaime wasn’t afraid this time, and Ryan’s pace was much slower, much more sensual. Unlike all the other times they fucked, this time, it almost felt tender, almost fragile. 

“Ryan…” Jaime breathlessly murmured. One arm encircled tightly around Ryan’s shoulders, the other hand whispered across the side of his face. He gazed into those green eyes. “Ryan, I...lo—” 

The rest of his words were cut off by Ryan’s lips pressing against his own. 

Jaime’s amazement at this seemingly simple action soon melted into such a euphoria that he never wanted the moment to end. All his earlier doubts and misgivings about Julia were erased from his mind as his body blazed with passionate fervor. He wanted to have Ryan for himself, and it seemed like nothing in the world could stop that from becoming reality. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all you readers who have followed along and been interested in this story, and sorry again for the long wait. Especially big thanks to those who left kudos and have faithfully waited for this update. <3
> 
> Part of the reason this chapter took so long was because it had so many different problems. Some of the sections were written ages ago, but then had to be heavily edited as they were pieced together with the other parts. A lot of inconsistencies then cropped up and had to be fixed. And then I debated heavily whether to split it into two chapters or not because it's gotten so long, but in the end it didn't seem right, so I've left it as is.
> 
> Anyway, not making excuses or anything, and I swear the next chapter will be posted soon because it's one of the ones that had already been finished ages ago (lol).


	9. This can't be happening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags for this chapter again.

“What day is it today?”

Sara had driven back from home for the weekend unannounced, and Jaime had barely let her into the apartment when she’d greeted him with the question. He looked at her with a frown growing on his face. It seemed a little extreme for her to drive for hours just to go to the bar when she could have gone to any other bar near her home. Not to mention, it had been so long since the last time they had gone out on a Friday, that he had seriously been hoping that she’d finally gotten over this whole Fridays-we-go-out thing.

“...It’s Friday.”

“And what do we do on Fridays?”

Evidently not.

A deep sigh escaped Jaime as he shook his head. “What the hell, Sara. You didn’t seriously come back to town early just to go to the bar, did you?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Sara replied with her own question.

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Well, for one thing, unless you’re going back tonight, where are you going to sleep?”

“You’ve got a sofa,” Sara said, shrugging. “Come on, Jaime. What do we do on Fridays?” she insisted once more.

Sighing again, Jaime shook his head. “I can’t. I’m meeting up with Ryan later.”

“You can see him anytime. You live with the guy. I haven’t been to the bar with you in _ages_.”

“What about your ‘backup bar buddies’? Why don’t you call on them?”

“They’re all busy working or had other plans,” Sara whined. “Come _on_ , Jaime, I drove six hours to get here, and it’s been so long since we’ve been to the bar together.”

“Not this time. Seriously, Sara—”

“Seriously, _Jaime_ , it’s Friday. Fridays. We. Go. Out.”

There was no more discussion. Jaime’s arm was in Sara’s clutches and he was already halfway out the door before he could even open his mouth in protest.

Unsurprisingly, the bar was as teeming as it always had been. The crowd was different tonight, or at least it felt that way somehow. The faces and the music were just as unrecognizable as usual, but there was something in the air that had Jaime’s nerves on edge. “It doesn’t feel right—” he began shouting over the noise to Sara, but by the time he turned to look at her, she’d already disappeared with a whooping battle-cry into the heaving crowds.

He sighed and went over to the bar to order his usual lime and soda, and idly sipped on it while keeping an eye on Sara from the edge of the dance floor. He’d just have to wait for the next opportunity to grab her and get her out of here before something went horribly wrong. There had only been one other time that he’d had this uneasy feeling, and that had been the one time that Sara might have ended up in the next day’s headlines as yet another tragic victim of drug-based sexual assault, had he not been on his guard and pulled the spiked drink away from her in time.

“Hey, weren’t you in English 390 last semester?”

The voice at his ear made Jaime jump in his skin and whirl around. A faintly familiar face peered down at him and grinned.

“I’d recognize that red hair anywhere. What’s your name?” the stranger asked.

“Jaime.”

“Jaime. Nice to meet you, Jaime. I’m Allen.” The stranger flashed another smile at Jaime. “You’re here pretty often, aren’t you? I’ve seen you here with that blonde girl before. You guys going out or some shit?”

Frowning, Jaime took a sip from his drink to buy time. “No, we’re just friends. I’m her designated driver.” Of sorts, anyway. He didn’t drive, but he did get her drunk ass home. Jaime looked at the stranger calculatingly. The guy wasn’t Sara’s type, and definitely gave off a bad vibe, so Jaime decided it was better to cut things off early. “Look, she’s dating someone, so—”

“What? No, no, I’m not trying to hook up with her,” Allen laughed, shaking his head. “Just curious because I see you hanging around with her all the time.”

Jaime eyed him uneasily again over the top of his lime and soda. He knew he was un-stereotypically bad at judging people’s sexual preferences, as Sara reminded him very frequently, but this one especially was throwing him off. This guy seemed more like a standard run-of-the-frat-mill hyper-masculine guy, not someone whose interests were more aligned with Jaime’s. It was more likely that he was just trying to prank Jaime by pretending to be gay too.

“Why aren’t you out there dancing?”

“I don’t dance. Like I said, I’m just here as DD.”

“Being DD doesn’t mean you can’t dance.”

Jaime’s frown deepened as he lowered his glass to look directly at Allen this time. “No, but I don’t want to dance. So I’m not.”

Allen raised his hands and chuckled. “Chill out, dude, I get it. So you don’t dance. That’s cool.” He propped up a forearm against the pillar that Jaime was leaning against, just above Jaime’s head. “What are you drinking? Since you’re not dancing.”

Eyebrows furrowed slightly, Jaime turned to blink at Allen. “What?”

“Your drink. What are you having? I’ll buy you one,” Allen laughed, nodding his chin toward the near-empty glass in Jaime’s hand. “You’d think you’ve never had someone buy you a drink before.”

“Um, I haven’t, actually,” Jaime muttered, hoping his voice would be drowned out by the _thump-thump_ of the bass. These Fridays-we-go-out’s were always for Sara’s enjoyment rather than his, and considering his primary purpose was to make sure that Sara got home safely, there hadn’t been any chances in the past for him to drink. Especially not drinks bought by a complete stranger who by all means didn’t look like he’d be sincere in offering to buy another guy a drink.

Leaning in closer to Jaime, Allen grinned. “Bullshit. I don’t believe it.”

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

Allen shrugged and slid his arm a little down the pillar so that his face was closer to Jaime’s now. “But there’s always your first, right?” The beat of the song sped up and the music crescendoed. His grin widened and he lowered his lips just to the edge of Jaime’s ear so that he didn’t have to shout as loudly. “So how about it?”

Jaime quickly pushed away from the pillar and took a step back from Allen. “No thanks, I’m good,” he shouted over the noise and then turned to shove his way through the dance floor, leaving his empty glass on a table as he went. That sense that something wasn’t quite right about tonight was overwhelming now, and he knew that he should just find Sara and get the hell out of there, right the fuck now.

He spotted Sara at last, next to the DJ’s platform, her hips practically melting into some random guy’s as they grinded away to the beat. Stretching an arm out through some other wildly-moving bodies, Jaime gave her shoulder a squeeze. She turned to him and grinned Cheshire-cat-like.

“Holy shit, are you actually going to fucking _dance_?” she squealed. The guy she’d been grinding with seemed put off, and proceeded to place his hands on either side of Sara’s hips possessively. Sara didn’t seem to notice and continued looking at Jaime in amazement.

“No. Sara, we should go. It doesn’t feel right—” Jaime began, but she cut him off.

“Oh, come on, Jai-jai, let loose for once. The night’s just getting started.”

“No, Sara, I mean it. It’s like that last time. We should really go.”

Sara gave him a pout and then glanced back to look at the guy whose hands were slithering to her lower back now. “Fine, just five more minutes? I want one more dance with—?”

Jaime didn’t hear what the guy’s name was but he didn’t care to find out. Sara had turned her full attention back to whatever-his-name-was now and they seemed to only have eyes for each other. Exhaling sharply, Jaime reached out to tap Sara’s shoulder again. “I’m going out for some air, then. I’ll come find you in a bit,” he shouted at her before turning to weave his way back through the crowd. He shoved between flailing arms and bouncing bodies to get to the door that led out to the alley behind the bar, where smokers hurriedly puffed their cigarettes before returning inside.

The late evening air was a cool relief on Jaime’s face as he stepped out of the hazy heat of the bar. He walked several paces to the corner of the alley so that he was still within sight of the door, but far enough from the stench of the cloud obscuring the smokers just outside of it. From around the corner, he could hear the sounds of traffic from the side of the L-shaped alley that opened up to the main street.

Leaning his back against the wall, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have let Sara make them stay even for just ‘five more minutes’, but he didn't have the energy to fight her at the moment. He’d just get a little more fresh air, and then go back in and carry her home kicking and screaming if he had to.

Jaime pulled his phone out of his pocket, and glanced at the time. Not even ten o’clock yet. He was supposed to meet up with Ryan at some point. There were no new messages from him, though. With a small sigh, Jaime quickly typed out a text.

_Sorry. Sara randomly came back and dragged me out to the bar._

_Where are you?_

He waited, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a reply so quickly. The message status was still marked as ‘Delivered’. He sent another message anyway.

_Gonna get out of here in a bit. Wanna meet up in 30mins?_

Each minute felt much longer somehow while he was waiting for a response. When Jaime finally looked down at the screen again, he noticed the status had finally changed to _Read_.

But no new messages.

Jaime frowned. Maybe he’d gotten mixed up and they were actually supposed to meet up tomorrow instead. He started typing another message back to make sure, when a voice made him jump.

“You don’t dance or drink, but you do smoke, huh?”

After shoving his phone into his pocket, Jaime looked up and saw a few guys standing a short distance from him, each of them smoking a cigarette or turning on a vape. The one who had spoken was the guy who’d tried to buy him a drink moments ago.

“No, I don’t. Just getting some air,” Jaime said. His back was already pressed to the wall, so he couldn’t lean back any more, but he tried to flatten himself against it anyway.

Alvin or Allen or whatever his name was — it didn’t really matter — smirked and blew out some smoke toward Jaime. “Yeah? Is there _anything_ you do for fun then?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not really a fun person, I guess.”

The guy lowered his hand to his side and tapped the cigarette. “Bullshit. There’s gotta be something you enjoy doing.” He took a step toward Jaime, the corners of his mouth sinisterly curling up. “Come on. Just let me buy you one drink, and I can show you how to have some fun.”

“Still no,” Jaime said firmly, even though his knees were threatening to give away how nervous he was. “I’ve got a boyfriend.” The words came out before he could think them through. He hadn’t actually called Ryan his ‘boyfriend’ before. Even if they didn’t give their relationship that kind of label, they pretty much were though, weren’t they? Whatever it was, Alvin-or-Allen didn’t need to know any of that.

“Yeah? And why should I believe you?”

Frowning, Jaime shuffled a step sideways toward the corner. This guy really wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Doesn’t matter if you believe me. It doesn’t change the facts.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure your ‘boyfriend’ won’t mind if you have a little fun, considering he let you come to a bar without him.”

“Look, I’m really not interested, okay? Just back the fuck off.” Jaime’s voice was starting to quiver, and he felt his blood rushing to his ears. He just needed to get away. If he just turned the corner and headed out to the main street, he’d be able to lose this guy and then circle around to get back inside the bar somehow to fetch Sara.

Hastily, Jaime turned and took long strides until he was around the corner, and then he was walking briskly toward the street lamps, where they shone beacon-like along the main road. But before he could make it all the way, he felt himself being pulled back, away from the lights and back into the shadowy depths of the alleyway.

Harsh hands pressed and grabbed all over his body. Some held him down, while others yanked his limbs into different directions and angles. A noise caught in his throat as he continued his struggle to free himself, though he knew it was pointless. There were too many of them and only one of him, and they’d gotten his arms and legs in tight holds.

One pair of hands started yanking his pants down. Jaime jerked his lower body away reflexively as he let out a sharp yelp. Another hand smacked over his mouth to keep him from letting out any louder noises.

His shout was muffled by the calloused palm over his face as he felt something warm and firm at his asshole. Despite his wilder attempts to free himself, he could feel something shove through his entrance. After the initial shove, he felt repeated thrusts that only seemed to increase in speed. Each back-and-forth motion split through his body as pain, and disgust, and shame.

The bodies and limbs started swirling about him like a thick, dense fog that entangled him, stifled him. Only one thought was running through his otherwise blank mind:

_‘This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Help... Ryan…’_

Voices. He could hear other voices some distance away. They were coming from the main street. There was no longer a hand over his face, so he turned his head toward the brightly-lit end of the alley. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the abrupt change in brightness while he tried to call out for help. As his vision cleared, he saw a familiar face...

...And familiar long, red hair next to it.

Ryan’s eyes locked with Jaime’s for a moment. At least, Jaime hoped that they had, because there was a hand covering his mouth again to keep him from shouting. He hoped that it had been enough for Ryan to recognize him.

“What the hell. Is that some kind of gay voyeur orgy?” a female voice commented, clearly disgusted. Jaime barely heard it over the wet slopping, panting, grunting around him.

“Looks like...” It was Ryan’s voice this time. “Yeah...maybe.”

Jaime was still looking toward the two, and this time he knew those familiar green eyes met with his own. He tried again to shout, but the stranger’s hand held his mouth firmly shut.

_‘Please, Ryan...please help me.’_

His eyes started feeling hot and wet, but he kept them on Ryan.

“Should we call the police or something?” Julia asked softly in concern. “They shouldn’t be doing that here.”

“No, let’s just get out of here. Don’t look. Just ignore it,” Ryan muttered and quickly pulled Julia along. He used his torso to hide the scene from her before they disappeared.

Eyes widening in dismay, Jaime screamed the words inside his head that he couldn’t scream out loud.

_‘No. No no no, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me, Ryan, please. Please. Please… Please don’t leave me here. Ryan…_

_‘No…’_

The moment the abandonment sunk in was the moment Jaime gave up all hope. He closed his eyes and no longer tried to struggle, or shout, or even attempt to escape. Instead, he just let the fog of vicious hands and bodies suffocate him.

...

Jaime stumbled through the door clumsily, as if he barely had control of his own limbs. Though he was still wearing his dirtied sweater, he shivered uncontrollably. It took all his effort to drag himself over to the bathroom and into the tub. He winced as his bruised arms and legs hit the cold surface with all the weight of his almost-limp body. His hand stretched out just enough to turn the shower on, as hot as it would go.

The sound of the blood rushing in his ears and his pounding heart was dimmed by the sound of the shower. He shivered again, despite the water almost scalding his skin through his soaked clothes. A noise came from the doorway over the din inside his head and the water falling over him. Bleary eyes opened just enough to make out a figure that used to make warmth spread across his entire body, but this time it made even the hot water on his skin feel frigid.

Some moments later, Ryan finally moved away from the door and came to kneel beside the bathtub. He started pulling at the tattered clothes, but Jaime’s body reacted reflexively by curling up tighter into itself. It took a moment of Ryan gently tugging before Jaime’s muscles relaxed enough to let him get the wet clothes off.

Silence continued to hang over them. The only noise was the stream of water and Jaime’s ragged, uneven breaths.

“I didn’t realize that was you.” Ryan finally spoke after some time. His voice was low, and had it not already been so quiet between them, Jaime might not have heard it.

At those words, Jaime’s chest twisted tightly with contempt at such a blatant lie. His tongue darted across his dry lips before he managed to mutter, “Cut the fucking bullshit.”

Ryan’s hand reached out to rub away the grime and fluid from Jaime’s skin, but Jaime quickly pushed it away with his own. “Don’t... Don’t touch me. I’ll do it myself.” Slowly, he raised himself onto his trembling legs by leaning heavily against the tiled wall to keep his balance. He hesitated for a moment before he reached down between his legs to clean himself.

The water was as hot as it could go, but he still felt cold. He washed himself as much as he could, but he still felt dirty. Filthy. Disgusting. Tainted. Still, he kept trying, but eventually he defeatedly slipped and fell to his knees while letting out a hoarse, choked burst of air. Ryan’s eyes were locked on him the whole time.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Ryan lowly as Jaime wrapped his arms tightly around himself again.

“Nothing.”

“Want me to call the cops or something?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I said I don’t want you to do anything. Just...” Jaime almost said that he wanted to be left alone, but fear stopped the words from slipping out. The same fear that he’d felt when Ryan had just left him alone in that alley... The fear that Ryan really would leave him alone forever.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“Isn’t that what got me here?” The words were more brusque than what Jaime intended, but they slipped out anyway. They were enough to cause a shift in the intensity of Ryan’s eyes.

After a pause, Ryan let out a sigh. “Fine. But you have to get out of there eventually. I’ll get you some dry clothes.” He got up to do so and returned shortly with a dry set of Jaime’s clothes, then set them on the countertop before sitting down next to the bathtub again. Jaime hadn’t moved in that time, and he continued to remain still while Ryan’s intense green gaze stayed locked on him.

Slowly, Ryan reached out and his fingers pushed aside wet strands of red hair from Jaime’s face. They gently curled the strands around themselves and lingered there.

“I didn’t want this to happen to you, you know.”

The words were meant to comfort Jaime, but only made the chill inside his body turn into an iciness that gripped his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope nobody started reading this story expecting it to be a happy one. :D
> 
> Should mention that the last 1/3 of this chapter was written years ago, so the quality isn't quite up to my standards now. That said, because it's kind of the crux of the story, I couldn't change it too much. So apologies if it seems a bit out of place. I tried my best.
> 
> Next chapter is still in pieces but I promise to try and finish it up ASAP.


	10. Already knew that it did

Sara was at the door the next morning, having come to yell in person because over the phone or by text wouldn’t have the impact she was aiming for. 

“Where the fuck did you go yesterday? I called you like fifteen times. You said it felt weird and then you went out for some air but you didn’t come back. So much for having my back, buddy. I could have been sexually assaulted or date-raped, you know,” Sara said in the half-joking manner that she was so skilled at. But this time, Jaime didn’t react to it like he normally would have. He only pulled his knees tighter to his chest, staring down at the folds of his bed covers. 

“You were supposed to let me crash on your sofa, remember?” Sara barrelled on. “It’s lucky I ran into Monique at the bar and her roommate is out of town this weekend, otherwise I would have been sleeping in the truck." When Jaime still didn't respond, Sara's tone shifted slightly. “Jai-jai? You okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. “Uh-huh, sure. What the hell happened to you last night?” she probed. “Don’t tell me you got into a fight with those guys who went out after you or some shit—” 

Jaime buried his face into his knees as an abrupt chill shot from his chest all the way to his limbs. In his mind, he saw flashes of the previous night again, of rough hands all over him, of repulsive cocks harshly thrusting into him, of disgusting fluids covering his face and leaking from his body. A sick feeling rose from his stomach as he began to feel dirty, tainted, filthy, contaminated all over again. He wanted Sara to stop talking, but he didn’t want to say anything. He wanted to be comforted, but she wasn’t the one he wanted it from. He wanted to feel protective arms around him, see bright green eyes to soothe him, but at the same time the ice in his heart prickled in fear that he’d never feel that comfort again. 

“Jaime? What the hell happened?” Sara asked again, her voice softening in real concern. 

Jaime still didn’t speak. 

“I saw those guys follow you out but then they came back in later without you. Did they do something to you?” 

Still nothing. 

Sighing softly in frustration, Sara reached out to grasp Jaime’s shoulder to turn him so that he would look at her, but he pulled away sharply from her touch as if it had burned him. He curled up even tighter into himself, his entire body visibly shuddering. 

“Jaime, did they hurt you? Did they beat you up?” Sara’s eyes scanned Jaime for bruises or cuts, but little of Jaime’s skin was visible beneath his clothes. “I don’t get it. Why did they come after you? It didn’t look like they wanted to pick a fight with you or anything. Unless…” 

Realization gradually spread across Sara’s face when she saw Jaime shifting in discomfort ever so subtly. She noticed the way he flinched as he tried to pull his knees in tighter. “Oh shit, Jaime...” She stared at him with horrified eyes, a hand raising up to cover her mouth. “You... Oh my fucking god. They didn’t— Did they—? Are you okay? Oh, what the fuck am I saying, of course you’re not. Did you call the police? Did you go to the hospital? We can still go now. I’ll drive you, I’m sure it’s not too late—” 

“Sara. Just stop.” 

She obeyed at the chilly tone of Jaime’s voice. Normal Sara would have taken offense at being shut up like that. Normal Sara would have kept talking. But this was not Normal Sara, because she knew this was not Normal Jaime. 

“Where was Ryan?” she asked after a moment. She noticed the way that Jaime stiffened instantly at the name and frowned. “I thought you said you were meeting up with him. Was he with you?” 

Jaime made no sound again. She didn’t know the whole story, but she could guess from his silence. 

“So he ditched you?” 

The words were like a shard of ice stabbing Jaime’s chest. 

Sara muttered murderously, “I can’t fucking believe he would flake on you like that. I’m going to fucking kill that bastard and tell him to—” 

“No! No... Don’t. Just...” Jaime choked out desperately without even raising his head from his knees. The word ‘leave’ terrified him. From the way that Ryan had looked at him so apathetically last night, Jaime was sure that any mention of what had happened would only push Ryan away even more. The last thing he wanted was for Sara to confront Ryan and make things worse. 

“But Jaime, he—” 

“Just don’t. Please. Don’t...say anything to him.” Or else he might leave for good. 

There was a silence as Sara seemed to debate with herself about what to do. Finally she gave a sigh of concession. “Okay, okay, fine. I won’t. But... Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Sliding onto the bed next to Jaime, she cautiously reached an arm around his shoulders. This time, he didn’t pull away. She hugged him tightly with both arms as he placed his head on her shoulder, deep shivers seizing him again. “Oh, Jaime... I’m so, so sorry, sweetie.” 

They simply sat for a while without speaking. Sara kept her arms around Jaime with her hand consolingly stroking his upper arm, while Jaime remained with his face in his knees, head tilted against Sara’s shoulder. He thought that maybe he should be crying, but his body was devoid of tears. 

... 

Sara continued calling Jaime incessantly the moment she’d gotten home that night. He didn’t pick up the first few times, but he gave in and answered after the fifth consecutive ring. Although he didn’t speak, he pressed the phone to his ear while Sara talked at him. 

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t stick around. My parents went on a trip to the fucking Dominican for their wedding anniversary so I had to come back to look after my sister.” A pause. “How are you doing, Jai-jai?” 

“Okay, I guess.” 

“You guess?” Sara asked. The frown was evident in the tone of her voice. “Are you at least taking care of yourself?” 

“Yeah.” 

A soft exhale came through the phone. “You don’t need to lie to me, you know. Look, Jaime, I was thinking on the drive back. I know you said you didn't want to report what happened to the police, but I really think you should at least talk to someone. The school has counsellors at the health center. You could go talk to one of them.” 

Jaime didn’t say anything. He didn’t even want to talk about it with Sara, let alone some stranger he’d never met before. The mere idea of revealing what happened, exposing everything about that night, made his stomach twist into a sickening knot. He just wanted to forget it ever happened and just pretend like nothing was wrong. And yet, here he was, not even able to get out of bed. 

There was silence on the line as Sara seemed to debate whether to push the topic or not. “Have you talked to Ryan then? Maybe he could help. I mean, he’s a Psych major so he might know—” 

“No.” Abruptly, Jaime had the desire to hang up the phone, but before he could move it from his ear, he heard Sara quickly jump in again. 

“Wait wait wait, Jaime, don’t hang up. Just hear me out, okay?” 

Jaime waited. 

“Still there?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Jaime, sweetie, I’m just trying to look out for you. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

Sara sighed softly, finally conceding that she wasn't going to get any further at this point. “Well, I hope you'll at least think about what I said, about talking to someone. And you know you can call me anytime, even if it's 4 in the morning. If you want me to come back, I’ll book it over there. I'll bring my sister if I have to. Just…” She paused. “Promise me you’re not going to just shut yourself in, okay?" 

Jaime's eyes stared at the wall without focusing on it. His mind drifted to a point beyond the wall, beyond the living room, into Ryan's room. Sara had said to talk to him. But whilst a tiny part of Jaime was tempted to do so, the rest of him had no desire to see his roommate for the first time. 

"Okay," he finally answered and promptly hung up the phone. 

... 

Despite what he’d promised Sara, Jaime couldn’t find the strength to do anything. He spent the next couple of days in his room without eating, and even though all he could do was lie in bed, he barely slept. The few times that he did manage to drift off, fragmented visions of that night would torment him and jolt him back to consciousness. Whenever he woke up from those nightmares, his mind immediately went to Ryan. He wanted to go to his roommate, to ask so many questions that continued to plague him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to know the answers. 

A soft knock came at the door. Jaime didn’t say anything, nor did he even stir. A couple seconds passed and another knock came, and then the door opened when there was still no response. Ryan took a step inside and stopped momentarily as he stared toward the bed, where Jaime was curled up tightly on his side. 

A few seconds passed before Ryan walked to the bed and sat down on the edge next to Jaime. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but he remained quiet for another minute before finally speaking. “Miles texted me. He asked if you saw his messages because they tried calling you from work,” he said lowly. After pausing for a beat, he continued, “Told him you weren’t feeling good so you were going to take the week off.” 

Jaime didn’t move, but forced himself to whisper, “Thanks.” 

Only the sounds of a gentle wind rustling the trees outside the window and soft bird chirps filled the room. After a while, Ryan slowly lifted his hand and brought it up toward Jaime’s cheek. He paused, and then gently brushed his fingers against a lock of Jaime’s hair by his ear. “You doing okay?” 

Somehow, it was difficult for Jaime to answer. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling, because he felt oddly numb, and yet inundated with a multitude of emotions at the same time. “Yeah… I guess...” he answered at last. 

“You guess?” 

Blinking his eyes, Jaime took in a slow breath. “I...don’t know.” 

“Anything I can do?” 

At this, Jaime turned his head ever so slightly so that he could look at Ryan. There were many things he wanted Ryan to do for him, but he was afraid to ask. He wanted to be embraced, to be held tight so that he could forget about every horrible thing that had happened that night. He wanted to be told that he wasn’t all the horrible things he was feeling. He wanted to hear Ryan say words of tenderness. But all he could ask for was, “Can...can you stay here...just for a bit?” He swallowed, even though his throat was dry. 

Ryan didn’t answer, but nodded and continued gazing down at Jaime with inscrutable green eyes. His hand drifted back to his side and rested on top of the covers. Jaime reached out to graze his fingertips across the back of Ryan’s hand before tentatively taking hold of it. 

For some reason, Jaime couldn’t help but think back to the time that he’d first had sex with Ryan. It hadn’t been as painful, or nearly as terrifying as that night after the bar, but somehow it still came back to him with the same chilling feeling. It was that sense that something had been a bit weird, that there had been something distinctly wrong about the whole situation. But he wasn’t really sure what that was. It disconcerted him, thinking back to that time, and thinking back to the emotions and thoughts he’d had when those guys had held him down and violated him. 

“You...didn’t leave me, right?” Jaime asked after what felt like an hour. “You didn’t… You wouldn’t have left me if you had known it was me….right? 

No response came. Ryan merely sat there, hand still in Jaime’s grasp, and eyes focused on some distant point out the window. Deeply inhaling through his nose, he turned his head to look down at last. Green eyes glimpsed momentarily at the pool of red hair strewn across the pillow that framed Jaime’s face. As he let out his breath, Ryan slid his hand away, reached up toward Jaime’s face, and then stopped inches away. He seemed on the verge of saying something, but still no words came. Instead, he withdrew his hand and paused before getting to his feet and heading for the door. 

Jaime watched, frozen, as Ryan’s back retreated through the door before it closed behind him. When the latch quietly clicked into place, he closed his eyes and buried his face into the pillow. He clutched at the icy ache in his chest. The tears that had been absent for days finally appeared in the corners of his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. 

… 

Once he had finally managed to drag himself out of the bed, Jaime had repeatedly gone to the bathroom and stood under the shower. Even after several times, the sensation of dirt and grime and filth still swathed his entire body like a tainted layer of skin. This compulsion lasted for a few days before Ryan stepped in. 

When he saw Jaime come out of his bedroom, Ryan strode over to block the way to the bathroom. “Stop. You’ve been three times already today,” Ryan said. His voice was firm but cautious, as if Jaime were a deer that he didn’t want to spook. 

Jaime stared down at the floor, unable to bring himself to look into Ryan’s eyes. Unclean. He still felt unclean. It must have been obvious to Ryan, too. He had to keep trying, try to get the uncleanness off. 

“I have to. I’m...unclean.” 

“You’re not,” Ryan stated flatly. 

A shudder ran down Jaime’s limbs as he coiled inwards. He wanted to argue and explain to Ryan exactly how that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t put this thought into a coherent sentence. So he simply whispered in defiance, “Yeah, I am.” 

“No, you’re not.” Taking a cautious step toward Jaime, Ryan reiterated, “You are not unclean, got it?” 

The words did nothing to alleviate any of Jaime’s shame. He debated between just pushing past Ryan to get to the bathroom, or hiding away in his room again. Neither was an appealing option, but it was all he could think of in that instant. 

Ryan’s feet appeared at the top edge of Jaime’s peripheral vision. Resisting the urge to recoil, Jaime stood still and kept his head down. He couldn’t look up at Ryan but he could feel the gaze of those green eyes that had seen right past him that night, now piercing through him. 

At last, Jaime licked his dry lips and began to murmur, “Then why else would they—?” But he couldn’t finish the question and closed his mouth. 

“Why would they do that to you?” Ryan finished for him. When Jaime nodded, Ryan let out a slow breath. “I really don’t know. Something about you must have gotten their attention.” 

Jaime shuddered and swallowed as a sentence he’d heard that night suddenly rang in his head. 

_‘I’d recognize that red hair anywhere.’_

“Maybe...it was my hair,” Jaime whispered, reaching up a hand to clutch a strand of his hair. It was still damp from the shower he’d taken not even an hour ago. 

Ryan seemed to ponder this before suggesting, “Why don’t you cut your hair then?” 

“Do you think I should cut it?” 

“It’s up to you.” 

Blinking, Jaime tightened his grasp around the lock of hair in his fingers. He hesitated before softly saying, “I thought you said you like my hair long.” 

After a pause, Ryan’s eyes shifted from the red hair to Jaime’s face. “I never said that.” 

“Oh.” 

This exchange with Ryan caused Jaime’s obsession with trying to cleanse himself of invisible impurities to finally subside. He still spent minutes on end in the bathroom though, this time with a new fixation. He would stand in front of the mirror, not moving until he retreated back to his room to burrow under the blankets instead. This ritual repeated for a few days, as he went back and forth between the bathroom and his bedroom. 

Days later, after hours of lying curled up in his bed, Jaime got to his feet and headed out of his room. He’d made up his mind. This time, he went to the kitchen first. He withdrew a pair of scissors from the drawer before padding to the bathroom once again. 

Jaime’s eyes focused on the mirrored reflection of his hair cascading down his shoulders. He reached up and tugged at a strand. The scissors in his other hand glinted as they sliced through. The hairs drifted to the floor, deep red in stark contrast against white tiles, like flecks of blood upon new-fallen snow. 

Jaime lowered both hands, gazing at the shortened strand brushing his cheek. He took a few shallow breaths. After a minute, he reached up again and continued cutting the rest. 

Each satisfying slash felt like a relief, like a reprieve from the burden that had been pressing down on him for days. 

Once he finished, he exhaled and set down the scissors on the counter. His fingers delicately brushed through now much shorter hair before he closed his eyes. He stood still for a minute or two before opening his eyes again and kneeling down to sweep the floor clean. 

When Jaime stepped out of the bathroom, Ryan was heading for the front door with his backpack in hand. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the crown of red hair about Jaime’s face. 

“You actually cut it.” 

“Yeah... Does it look bad?” Jaime asked rhetorically. He already knew that it did. 

A responding shrug. “It’s okay. I just like long hair.” Ryan proceeded to the door, pulled it open, and strode out without another word. 

The fingers of Jaime’s left hand slid through his much shorter locks. They were still not used to the feel of it. The right hand clenched at his suddenly tense chest. His eyes never left Ryan’s back, even when the door closed behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated writing this chapter. :( It gave me such a hard time and I struggled with pretty much every scene except for one.
> 
> Almost to the end though! The next chapter is really barebones right now but I'll try to get it updated as fast as I can. <3


End file.
